Private Eyes
by Lord of Kavaka
Summary: Everyday was the same. Get up, work, and then go to bed. Kate Beckett was bored. She needed a change in her routine. So, after some nagging from her best friend, she allowed herself to be set up on a blind date… and that's when she met Rick Castle. AU. Spy Castle. Entry for 2014 Castle Ficathon.
1. Prologue

**TITLE**: Private Eyes  
**AUTHOR**: Lord of Kavaka  
**CHARACTERS**: Castle/Beckett  
**RATING**: T  
**TIMELINE**: Post-Season 3 AU  
**STORY TYPE**: Romance/Adventure  
**SPOILERS**: Anything from Season 1 - 6  
**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own them, and I make no profit.  
**SUMMARY**: Everyday was the same. Get up, work, and then go to bed. Kate Beckett was bored. She needed a change in her routine. So, after some nagging from her best friend, she allowed herself to be set up on a blind date… and that's when she met Rick Castle. AU. Spy Castle. Entry for 2014 Castle Ficathon.  
**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I always wanted to write a "Castle as a spy" fanfic, and seeing chezchuckles' success gave me courage to attempt my hand at one. So, everything up to Season 3 is still canon, minus Castle's involvement with the precinct and books. I'm hoping to get to 50,000 words for this Ficathon story.**  
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**Private Eyes – Prologue**

The hustle and bustle of the airport had always been daunting, more so now than before. But it wasn't really the rushed and hurried energy buzzing about that did it. No. She could handle the fast pace just fine. It was the crush and mass of people. She had never really been agoraphobic, but ever since what happened, Kate Beckett had never been a fan of large crowds in contained spaces. Clenching her jaw tightly, she did what she did best… sucked it up, and stepped through the sliding automated doors, desperately trying not to flinch at every sudden and quick movement that she glimpsed from the corner of her eye. The din was loud and oppressive, and she had to will herself not to panic.

She didn't want to look crazy.

Gripping the handle of her roller, Kate walked briskly across the tiled floor, focusing on the staccato click of her heels as she maneuvered around a family of three—Mom, Dad, and child—just standing there as the parents bickered about some inane thing while their little girl waited patiently for them to finish.

Kate sympathized with the young brunette, seeing some of herself at that age in the girl. She allowed herself a moment to linger on the image, so reminiscent of her own childhood when her mother and father would argue about some little thing while on a family vacation, before she let it fade with a small sad smile, turning away to make her way to the check-in line. She could have done it last night, but the panel she'd been attending ended late and she'd been exhausted, falling asleep the moment she'd collapsed onto the bed in her hotel suite, completely forgetting about the early online check-in.

She'd only come to Washington, D.C. under orders. Apparently the brass had wanted the city's best to represent them at the annual Law Enforcement Officers Conference, and Captain Gates had volunteered Kate for the assignment. When she'd tried to protest, the captain had told her to think of it as a short vacation, a reprieve from the stress of work. All her colleagues seemed to share the opinion that she'd been working too hard since her return to active duty. So, in the end, Kate had relented to the demands of her friends—and boss—and attended the conference, representing the Homicide Division of the NYPD.

The line was moving slowly, and Kate was getting a little antsy. She was beyond ready to go home and get back to work. She glanced at her wristwatch—clunky, male, her father's. It was a reminder of the life she'd saved. Looking back up, tapping her foot impatiently, she reached up and absently felt for the ring safely tucked under her blouse, hidden from view. The ring hanging on the chain around her neck was a reminder of the life she'd lost. Her mother.

Kate closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, willing her thoughts to refrain from wandering down that path. She'd spent too much of her life going down that rabbit hole. And after what had happened, she had promised her dad—and herself—that she'd back off… let things settle. Kate wasn't done though. Far from it. She had poked the sleeping dragon and had nearly been burned. She'd survived… marred, but alive. She'd go back… poke again. But not today.

She was startled out of her thoughts when the man behind her bumped into her back, knocking her off balance. She canted to her left, hitting her roller and causing it to topple over onto its side.

"Oops! Sorry," the man said, quickly seizing her arm to catch her before she fell.

Her breath hitched up, and she froze, completely caught off guard. It had been so long since she'd felt another's touch. The sensation was almost foreign to her. His fingertips brushed down her forearm as his hand dropped away, unknowingly leaving gooseflesh and a strange electric tingle in their wake. He bent down and righted her roller with swift and deft movements.

Kate flicked her eyes up to the stranger in front of her. The first thing she noticed was that he was tall. Dressed casually in dark jeans and a light gray polo shirt, an unbuttoned khaki jacket draped over his shoulders, he appeared to be nothing more than an average traveler. She felt slightly ashamed that she'd almost been hoping she'd find something suspicious about him.

He smiled sheepishly, his lips quirking up for a brief second, and gripped the brim of his distressed red baseball cap, tipping it courteously. "Sorry," he apologized again. "The line started to move, and I just stepped forward, not really paying attention." He paused, a bemused expression flashing across his ruggedly handsome features. "Your mind seemed elsewhere."

"Oh," Kate blushed, flustered as she glanced around, noticing that she was, indeed, holding up the line. "Yeah. I was. Sorry." She gave him a weak smile, before grabbing the handle to her roller and turning around to move up in the queue.

She looked back at him, and he pursed his lips, smiling reassuringly. She couldn't help but marvel at the sparkle in his blue eyes, so clear and self-assured. She wished she had such confidence. Hers had been somewhat lacking since… the incident. Kate bit her lower lip, her cheeks warming on a blush as she ducked her head, averting her eyes from his kind gaze. Thankfully, he didn't seem to mind her quiet and shy demeanor. She sighed, grateful that he didn't pester her when she remained silent. She wasn't trying to be standoffish or unfriendly. She just didn't know how to respond to his polite manner. It had been so long since she'd engaged in casual discourse with anyone with whom she didn't already know. And she'd never been good at small talk.

Kate turned her attention back to the line, heaving in a quick breath as she glanced around, feeling a little calmer now than she had before. Instinctively, she reached up again and felt for the ring beneath her blouse. She bit her lip and released a sigh. She just wanted to get her boarding pass and get through security, hoping that this delay wouldn't cause her to miss her flight.


	2. Chapter 1

**Private Eyes – Chapter 1**

"One… two… three."

BANG!

The door flew off the hinges as men clad in black body armor and SWAT gear, guns held at the ready, stormed into the dark room. Rays of light from the mounted flashlights scanned across the room as the team fanned out. The only other light penetrating the darkness came from the banks of computer terminals spread out across the room. Other than the low hum of electricity, the room was silent. File cabinets had been tossed, hundreds of paper documents scattered the floor, and were littered across the tops of the computer stations, making it appear as if the room had been thoroughly ransacked.

When the "all clear" was called, two young men in ubiquitous dark suits entered. One stood in the middle of the room, surveying the damage and talking with the TAC team leader, while the other went straight for one of the computer terminals, snapping on a pair of latex gloves as he went. He hunched down to type a series of commands on the keyboard. A new window popped up on the monitor and several coded numerical sequences scrolled past. He narrowed his eyes, quickly translating the code in his head, as two senior agents, Turner and Danberg, entered the room.

"Report."

"It's just as you suspected, ma'am," the tech specialist asserted. "The files have been copied."

"The security logs?"

"Erased," the other specialist turned away from his conversation with the TAC team leader. "The external backup drives pulled and missing."

Agent Turner glowered. "So there's nothing?"

"Well, he _is_ thorough," Danberg said. "You really didn't expect him to be that sloppy, did you?"

"No," sighed Turner, carding her fingers through her hair, frustrated yet still capable of admiration and respect for the expert skills on display. "He's the best."

"Which makes this breach all the more serious," Danberg asserted with a grim expression. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm going to report this."

Turner nodded absently as Danberg pressed his phone to his ear and strolled out of the room. She stepped over to the computer terminals, and picked up one of the discarded printouts littering the desktop, turning it over in her hands to see a mass of numerical lines covering the page in crisp black ink. It was unintelligible data to her, but she knew that to others it made perfect sense. One of the younger agents gave her a strange look when he noticed her lack of gloved hands, but she ignored him. Despite the effort to make the room look ransacked, she knew they wouldn't find any fingerprints except for those they were supposed to find.

And besides, they already knew who the traitor was.

Her lips quirked up for a split second at the thought, before she dropped the printout and spun around on her heels. Whipping her cell phone out from the side pocket of her blazer, she scrolled through her contacts as she confidently walked towards the door. Finding the one she wanted, she pressed the call button.

"You were right, Spyglass has been compromised."

XXX

Today had been the worst… the absolute worst. It couldn't get any worse, even if it tried.

But, on the bright side, she was back. Finally.

After a long and boring Law Enforcement Officers seminar in D.C., Kate Beckett was back in the Big Apple. She almost thought she'd never get back. There had been some issues at the security checkpoint at Reagan National… something about a threat to national security. TSA had increased screening. Even her NYPD badge wasn't enough to get her past the Homeland Security agents and National Guard troops that seemed to materialize out of nowhere in the blink of an eye. Every person going through the queue was thoroughly patted down and checked. The delay had cost her precious time, and she'd missed her original scheduled flight.

The clerk at the gate had helped to set her up on the standby list for a later flight, and Kate then wandered around the terminal, killing time. She had browsed through the mystery paperbacks at a little book kiosk, searching for a quick read. Nothing had really leapt out at her, so she ended up just grabbing a random thriller off the shelves and thumbed through it while she waited in the seating area. Eventually, she got a flight back to New York, which had ended up being the last flight of the night.

She wished she could have said that the return flight from D.C. had been uneventful, but that just wasn't her day. Kate was beginning to wonder if she was cursed. Nothing in her life seemed to be going right. She'd just wasted a year of her life treading water in a nowhere relationship, and to top it all off, her friend and mentor had been killed, and she'd then been shot while giving the eulogy at his funeral. Her road to recovery had been long and hard, but Kate believed she was doing better now, even if she occasionally had bouts of agoraphobia. She was seeing a therapist, working through her PTSD, along with her obsession over her mother's murder.

So, with all that hanging over her, Kate wasn't all too surprised when the universe decided to jerk her around by delaying the damn red-eye. After she finally boarded the plane and squeezed into her seat, Homeland Security held them at the gate. She watched from her seat as the agents stormed up and down the aisle, scrutinizing everyone. They'd even questioned her briefly, asking what the purpose of her trip to D.C. was, where'd she stayed, and who'd she'd been in contact with while there. After she'd showed them her badge and credentials, they'd moved on. From her seat, she could see a man and woman standing by the cockpit door, supervising. If Kate had a mind for conspiracies, she'd think they were CIA.

It was damn peculiar. Even though she was exhausted and beyond ready to just take a power nap, Kate had been intrigued. Something major was going down, and her natural instincts were piqued. She had eased up and scanned the cabin, looking around at all the other passengers. No one seemed suspicious. But then again, they never did until it was too late.

Eventually, they'd been given the all clear, and the plane pushed off from the gate and taxied to the runaway. Kate had glanced around at her fellow passengers one last time, before giving into her need for a catnap.

Now she was paying the cabbie his fee, plus a little extra for the speed with which he got her back from LaGuardia. The man grunted out an acknowledgement of the generous gratuity before speeding off in search of his next fare. Kate shook her head, covering her mouth as she tried to stifle a yawn. Gripping the handle of her roller, she trudged up the front steps of her apartment building and pushed the door open, shuffling tiredly into the small lobby.

It was a little past 3 AM, and Kate was looking forward to just crashing for a good couple hours before heading to the precinct and briefing Captain Gates on the seminar. She was almost hoping that the boys had caught a case while she was gone. She just wanted to get back to work. As she walked slowly towards the elevator, the building super's door opened and Mr. Hostetler stepped out holding his rusty old toolbox in his hand. He quietly closed the door behind him, and she couldn't help but notice his stock of peppery gray hair sticking up in amusing patterns, making it obvious he'd just gotten out of bed.

"Kate!" he beamed when he saw her. "Back from your vacation?"

She threw him a look and smiled politely. "It wasn't really a vacation, Ernie."

"Still, you got out of the city for a time," the older man said with a shrug. "A change of scenery should have been nice."

Kate gave him a wan smile. "I really didn't have time to take in the sights," she replied conversationally. "The conference ate up most of my time."

"Ah, that's too bad," Ernie said, taking his thick black-rimmed glasses off and rubbing them with a cloth from his breast pocket.

"What you doing up so early?" she asked as the elevator doors opened and they both stepped inside the lift. She reached over and punched in the button for her floor.

Ernie leaned over and pressed the button for the top floor. "Mrs. O'Reilly's kitchen faucet is leaking again," he said, putting his glasses back on, and pushing them back up his nose with his pointer finger. "I swear… the number of times she's called me up there you'd think she'd been unscrewing the damn thing on purpose."

"Oh… _that_ again," Kate pursed her lips and looked away for a moment, smirking. "I think she's just sweet on you."

Ernie laughed, and shook his head. "Perhaps," he replied with a little grin. "Just like that doctor fellow of yours… what's his name? Josh?"

Kate's smile dropped, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. "No. Um… we broke up," she said, voice thick with tension. "During the summer." Being shot in the heart was a real wake up call for her. She'd been treading water with Josh. She had liked him, really liked him, but it hadn't been enough. And after such a traumatic near death experience, Kate had decided she was done with hollow relationships. She would never find that elusive happiness if she squandered the time she did have with a man she didn't love.

"Oh," he raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. He glanced away and Kate narrowed her eyes, knowing he was leaving something out.

"Ernie?" she warned, gracing him with one of her patent glares that she usually reserved for suspects.

Mr. Hostetler folded easily under her stare. He sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"He showed up just before dinnertime," he told her. "Got complaints about him pounding on your door from the other tenants. So I went up to check. He said something about you two planning to have a late dinner when you got back, and that he'd forgotten his keys, asked if I could let him in." He paused, and looked up at her with apologetic eyes. "Kate, if I'd known you'd broken up with him, I would never have unlocked the door."

Kate clenched her jaw, a scowl growing across her face. Great. There went her hopes of being able to just collapse in bed and crash. She was not looking forward to the confrontation that was awaiting her. Glancing back over at Mr. Hostetler, her gaze softened. "Don't worry about it, Ernie," she told him after an uncomfortable silence. "It's not your fault. You had no way of knowing." And he didn't. She'd been subdued for the last couple of months, and had barely spoken with anyone in her building. It had been unusual for her, but most of them had been aware of the shooting at her former captain's funeral, and were just respecting her privacy by letting her be.

He inclined his head, and smiled weakly. "Just the same, I feel bad."

Kate placed a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to reassure him. "Ernie, don't worry about it, I'll take care of it," she said, turning as the elevator doors rattled opened on her floor. "_You_ just be careful of Mrs. O'Reilly's wandering hands."

She smiled, pleased when his face lit up with mirth and he laughed, shaking his head and proclaiming he'd try his best.

Chuckling, Kate tugged her roller along behind her as she marched down the hallway. Though once the elevator doors rattled closed, all the amusement and laughter fell from her face as her eyes glared down the hallway, fixating on the door to her apartment. She stopped dead in her tracks, scowling.

Today just wasn't her day, was it?

She gritted her teeth, a low frustrated growl rumbled up from deep down in her throat. Kate thought she'd been very clear before summer, but apparently he just couldn't take a hint. She stifled down her irritation and walked the rest of the way down the hall, resolutely determined to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.


	3. Chapter 2

**Private Eyes – Chapter 2**

"Can I get a refill?" the man with the rugged good looks asked.

"Sure thing, hon," sung the aging waitress with the ridiculously fake blonde wig. She moseyed on over to the booth with the coffee pot and poured him a generous helping. "Want some sugar or cream with that?"

"No, I'm good, thank you," he replied with a polite smile.

She nodded and sauntered back to the counter to chat with some of the other patrons, presumably regulars, by the look of them. He sat back in the old red vinyl covered seats, watching her for a moment, before glancing out the window. In the city that never sleeps, it was surprisingly quiet outside. Raising the mug to his lips, he took a long sip as he observed his surroundings. It seemed safe… as safe as things could get for him. Tugging the distressed red baseball cap down over his brow, he slipped his hand into his khaki jacket and pulled out a small electronic device that resembled an older cellular phone.

Flipping it open, he punched in a series of numbers and pressed the send button. A minute or two later, the phone buzzed with an answering text with a similar pattern of random numbers. He let out a sigh of relief, and closed the phone, returning it back in his jacket pocket as he relaxed back into the frayed cushions of the booth.

That was one less worry.

Picking the mug up, he took another sip, while letting his eyes fall back down on the phonebook before him. He flipped through the pages until he reached the letter B. He set the mug down and narrowed his eyes, time to find an address.

XXX

She unlocked her door and pushed it open, slipping in as quietly as possible. Her apartment was dark, save for the light over the kitchen counter. Kate closed the door gently, trying not to make any noise, hoping that Josh had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her. She was furious at him for having the temerity to even come over while she was away. She was even more furious that he'd taken advantage of Mr. Hostetler's kindness. He'd known the old man didn't know they'd broken up, and he'd used that to gain entry to her apartment.

Kate's hopes at avoiding any sort of confrontation were smashed when a table lamp beside the couch flickered on. She closed her eyes and groaned, ruffling her hair in frustration, not really in the mood for another argument. They'd had so many. She just wanted it over with. Why couldn't he just move on?

"Kate!?" Josh exclaimed, staring up at her blearily, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with the heels of his hands as he sat up on the couch. His white t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders as he worked the kinks out of his neck. "What are you doing here?"

Ignoring him for a moment, Kate deposited her roller near the doorway leading into her bedroom. With her back to him, she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as she took in a quick calming breath. She was tired, and just wanted to go to bed. If only she could put this off until the morning. But she knew she couldn't. Sighing with resignation, Kate turned back around to face her ex-boyfriend.

"I live here, why else would I be here?"

His brow furrowed as he looked at her. "I… um…," he rubbed his forehead, carding his fingers through his thick dark hair, glancing around, eyes wide as if he'd just finally noticed where he was. "This isn't my apartment."

"No shit," Kate grumbled under her breath, crossing her arms as she studied him with narrowed eyes. From his ruffled appearance and glazed over eyes it didn't take her long to deduce what he was about. "Oh my god, you got drunk and forgot we broke up."

"What!? NO! NO!" he objected pitifully, before groaning and rubbing his head. He cast her a contrite expression, sighing in defeat. "Okay, maybe I did."

Kate let out a frustrated breath, biting her tongue. She should have known. Even when they'd been arguing, Josh had never been the type to wait outside her apartment pounding on the door until she opened up. It looked like it had all been a drunken mistake. She felt a little relieved, and started to hope that she might just be able to collapse in bed after all.

But then Josh opened his mouth.

"So what if I was drunk," he said, his gaze appearing more steady and clear, sobering, breaking through the last haze of sleep. He heaved himself off the couch, stretching to his full height. He flexed his muscles, probably assuming she'd be impressed with his physique. She was not. He was good on the eyes; she'd give him that. "Maybe it was fate that led me back to you. I've missed you, Kate. So much. We were so good together. But then…"

"No, we weren't," Kate interjected before he could continue. "We were _never_ good together, Josh. We had fun, yes, but that isn't the same thing. We're both workaholics. And at first, I liked that. I did. But as things progressed, I realized that it started to become something I disliked. We never really had time for each other."

He opened his mouth to object, but she continued on, undeterred.

"Hooking up for a few brief hours during the night or morning to have sex does not constitute as having time for each other," Kate crossed her arms over her chest as she glared at him.

Josh looked at her with assessing eyes. She narrowed her brow, not liking the amorous expression manifesting itself across his features. He seemed undaunted by her words, coming closer. Kate took a step back, but was hindered by the wall behind her.

"Just because you saved my life doesn't mean I owe you anything," she stammered out.

"I never said that," Josh asserted, inching closer and invading her personal space. His hand came up and cupped her jaw. Closing her eyes, she shivered at the sensation of his touch. It had been so long since someone had touched her so intimately. He smoothed his fingers along her cheek and swept her hair back from her face. She let out a soft sigh, regretting it almost immediately, cursing her treacherous body.

"Look, Kate," he said softly, gazing down at her with an empathy that she'd always admired. He was an amazing doctor, and his work was inspiring, but it had also come first, just as her work had for her. "I know that after you were shot, you said you couldn't be in a relationship anymore."

Kate felt her heart clench at the mention of what had happened to her last May at Captain Montgomery's funeral. She still had nightmares, but thankfully they weren't as frequent as they once were. The scars still pulled when she'd stretched, bent the wrong way, or moved too fast. And she was still healing. The emotional scars were invisible, but just as traumatic and long lasting.

"And I respected that," Josh continued. "I still do. But we both know you were just pushing me away… because you were afraid to appear weak."

"I… I'm not afraid," she choked out, but even to her own ears the protest sounded weak.

"Yes, you are," Josh insisted in a soft voice, reassuring and tender. "But that's okay, Kate. It's okay to be afraid."

Kate closed her eyes, suppressing the rising tide of tears that were welling up behind her eyelids. God, he was right. Everything he was saying was true. Something inside her had changed when her mother died. She'd built a wall around her heart, to protect herself. But she didn't love Josh. She never had. She had liked him, really liked him. But not enough to keep deluding herself into thinking they could last. He wasn't the answer. He wasn't what she was looking for.

"How long has it been, Kate?" he asked, his voice dripping low and dark, attempting to be seductive. "How long has it been since you've felt the warmth of another by your side? I want you, Kate. I've missed you. Haven't you missed me?"

"No!" she growled out, frustrated that he just couldn't take a hint. She shoved him back, and turned to pick up her roller. But she had moved to fast, and the scar along her side pulled painfully. She tried to suppress a cry of pain as her side burned with what felt like millions of tiny fires blazing down her ribcage. Kate gritted her teeth as she cursed, her body curling in on itself, instinctively reacting to the sudden assaulting discomfort. "Damn it!" she hissed out.

"Kate?"

She flicked her eyes up at him, bringing a hand up to forestall his advancement. With her other hand, she rubbed the tender spot along her side, grimacing. Eventually the pain dimmed to a dull throbbing ache, and she was able to breathe again. Inhaling deeply, she looked back at Josh, his eyes watching her with concern.

He stepped closer, bringing a hand up to caress her side. His other hand gripped her waist, his fingers curling possessively into her hipbone. "You're so tense, Kate," he murmured, moving forward to nuzzle his nose into her hair. "You need a release. I can help. Let me help you." His hand moved up to palm her breast.

Kate gasped out in astonishment at his audacity. Like the fool he was, he mistook it for a moan of pleasure, and playfully squeezed the round flesh in his hand. With all her strength she shoved him back and slapped him hard across the face. He stumbled back, dazed, clearly stunned by her actions. The smell of liquor went with him.

"How dare you!" she yelled, shoving him once more for good measure. He stood there and rubbed his stinging cheek, looking at her with a bewildered expression, as if he'd expected her to just fall into his arms.

"Kate," he said in a pleading voice, reaching out to gently run his hand down her shoulder, as if he was soothing a wild animal. "Let's not fight. I'm tired of fighting. I just want you. Can't that be enough for tonight? It doesn't have to be anymore complicated than that. We can both simply satisfy each other's physical needs. At the very least, Kate, let me help you with that."

"I don't need your help," Kate gritted out, pushing away from him and stalking towards her front door, still cradling her aching side with one hand. "You may have performed the operation that saved my life, which I'm grateful for, and even helped me recover in the hospital, but don't think that that means I'm going to change my mind. I meant what I said. We're over, Josh. We have been, for a while now." She paused to heave in a gentle breath, trying to regain some control over her emotions, and then added, "I knew it wasn't going to work between us long before we actually broke up. So this…," she gestured between them, "it's not going to happen. EVER."

"So… is this it? Is this the end?" he asked, gazing up at her with a crestfallen expression. He had probably bet on this being his best shot to win her back and was just realizing it wasn't going to work.

"Yeah, Josh," she said. "This is the end."

"But, Kate… we… we were so good together."

"Emphasis on _were_, past tense," she pointed out. She sighed, and brushed her hair back from her face as she turned and opened her front door for him. "It's for the best, Josh. We were both fooling ourselves. It was never going to last."

Josh stood there for a moment, before he dropped his head in surrender. He dragged his feet back to the couch and snatch up his hoodie, tugging it on as he reluctantly stepped past her and into the hallway, looking dejected. Before she could close the door, he turned back around. "I… I don't know," he carded his fingers through his hair as he looked down at her. "I guess I just thought when you broke up with me in the hospital you were just responding to the moment, raw and fresh from the trauma of getting shot and having open heart surgery, that… that you really didn't mean it." He sighed. "I guess I was wrong."

She inclined her head and hummed in confirmation. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," Kate put forth, wanting to, at the very least, part on amicable terms. Regardless of how things had ended between them, she had liked him, really liked him, and he had been a decent boyfriend. It just wasn't meant to be. "You're a good man, Josh. An even better doctor. But I'm not the one for you. You'll find her, I'm sure. Just not here," she added with a shrug.

Josh nodded, finally seeming to come to terms with their break up. He looked at her with a small sad smile. "We had some fun, though, didn't we?"

"Yeah," she agreed, giving him a weak smile, remembering the good times. "We did." He nodded, and they stared at one another for a long beat, until Kate broke their gaze. "Goodbye, Josh."

He sighed, and inclined his head. "Goodbye, Kate. And… good luck." And with that, he dropped his head and stuck his hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he trudged down the hallway to the elevator.

Kate closed and locked the door, slumping back against it in relief. Finally. It was over. It was done. And now there wouldn't be any misperceptions and misunderstandings. This time he knew it was over. Hopefully that would be the last she saw of him. Exhaling an exhausted sigh, the fatigue from the long day finally catching up with her, Kate pushed off from the front door and shuffled back to her roller. This time, she gently bent down to grab the handle, mindful of the scar running along her left side. She tugged the roller along with her as she marched towards her bedroom.

Dropping the case by her closet, Kate kicked off her flats and then slowly stripped out of her clothes, dumping them in the laundry basket. Pulling her drawers open, she grabbed some gray boyshorts and her pink cotton jersey. She slipped into her sleepwear, and then padded across her room to the bathroom, where she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Stifling a yawn, she slinked back into her bedroom.

Kate unfastened her father's wristwatch and removed the necklace with her mother's ring from around her neck, placing them both into a small decorative keepsake chest on top of the dresser. Reverently closing the lid, she gazed down at the black and white photo of her parents, so happy and in love with one another. That's what she wanted.

She turned away from the dresser and crawled into bed, snuggling into the soft pillows and the comfortable duvet. Closing her eyes, she hummed in contentment at finally being able to just crash. Now, alone in her own bed, Kate was able to acknowledge that what she wanted most was a love like her parents had had. She just… she just lacked the faith she'd find it. After her mother's death, she had taken to hiding in relationships with men she didn't love. It was an easy way to avoid risking her heart, fearful she'd get too attached, and then get hurt and suffer through that pain all over again.

And then she'd been shot, and had almost died… flatlined more than once, according to Lanie, during the ambulance ride to the hospital. It changed everything. And with the help of Dr. Burke, she was gradually coming to terms with that. She wanted to be more and have more, have her life defined by more than her mother's death. Josh was the past. It was time to move on and look towards the future. She was ready to move on. She was tired of not expecting anything less than what was put in front of her. It was time to reach for what she wanted.

She just had to find a way to get it.

XXX

Agent Turner stood before the bank of flat screens, her almond colored eyes narrowed as she watched the grainy black and white security footage skim on fast forward. Danberg was to her left, talking with the supervising TSA officer. Finishing his debriefing, he stepped back over to her side.

"Anything?" she asked, not holding her breath.

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Damn."

"Did you expect any less from him?"

Turner let out a growl of frustration and folded her arms across her chest. "You sound impressed?" she flickered her eyes over towards her partner for a second, before returning them to the flat screens.

"I am," Danberg admitted freely, though his face remained stoic and calm. Always the calm one, Agent Danberg. "His father was a legend at the Company. It's not all that surprising that the apple didn't fall too far from the tree." His eyes glanced across the array of screens, before falling back on her. "It's late, you should get some rest. Agent Jones can screen the footage."

"No, that's okay," she asserted with a firm and unwavering voice, keeping her gaze on the black and white images on the monitors.

Danberg gave a shrug. "Want some coffee then?"

"That would be nice, thank you," Turner inclined her head.

She watched him walk away, and then turned her attention back to the security footage. Danberg was a good agent, and she trusted him to do his job. Turner was more worried about Spyglass than their rogue agent. The program was crucial to a certain project that she'd been endeavoring to set in motion for years. She'd invested a considerable time and effort into it, and she did not like having her plans thwarted by _him_, of all people, even if he was actually good at his job despite being a legacy.

"Here you go," a voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Black, just as you like it."

Turner glanced up to see Danberg offering her a paper cup with a Starbucks logo on it. "Thanks," she accepted the coffee and took a long sip, closing her eyes as she relished the caffeine pick-me-up.

"Hold it there!" Danberg's raised startled Turner, and she glanced up to see him pointing at a screen. "Rewind… resume… and yes, right there, stop." He turned to her and cracked a rare smile. "That's him in the check-in queue."

Turner stepped forward and examined the pixelated image. It was grainy and slightly out of focus, but yes, she recognized that broad frame and build. She knew it all too well. And that stupid baseball cap didn't fool her either. It was him. Her eyes flicked up to the sign above the check-in desk, and she grinned victoriously, immediately recognizing the logo on display. It was a commonly used shuttle service, and there was only one place she knew it went.

She tilted her head back to Danberg and smirked. "Looks like we're going to New York."


	4. Chapter 3

**Private Eyes – Chapter 3**

The elevator doors rattled open, and Kate Beckett stepped out and strode with confidence into the bullpen. She glanced around, her eyes lingering on the white board, noticing the hastily scribbled timeline and notes, with a scattering of crime scene photos taped up with details written underneath. Turning her head, she spotted Ryan and Esposito, sitting at their desks, heads down as they reviewed financials on their latest suspect.

"Hey boys," she called out, gaining their attention.

"Hi, Beckett," Ryan chirped, glancing up from the printouts he was reviewing. She couldn't help but smile a little. Ryan was just so upbeat. It probably had to do with the fact he was getting married soon. Jenny was a lovely woman. Ryan was a really lucky guy. Kate hoped nothing but the best for them.

"Well, well, well…," Esposito drawled, relaxing back in his chair. He raised his arms up and rested his head against his hands in a feigned casual manner. "Look what the cat dragged in. Nice of you to join us," he quipped with a smirk, poking fun of her mid-morning arrival. After all, Beckett was notorious around the precinct for her single-minded devotion to her job, often arriving before the break of dawn. Her life revolved around solving murders, and little else. Which, as she thought about it, was kind of depressing. Yet, it was her choice.

Narrowing her eyes at the troublemaker, she pursed her lips in mock annoyance as she dropped her bag on her desk and deposited her coat on the back of her chair. "_Oh, how was the conference, Beckett? Have any fun, Beckett? We missed you, Beckett. We just couldn't get along without you, Beckett. We're lost without your leadership_," Kate mimicked a masculine voice in a parody of her co-workers, spouting off all the questions and comments that the dictates of polite conversation demanded.

"Rough night?" Esposito quirked up a knowing eyebrow as he dropped his arms and returned to his original sitting position.

"I got in late," she answered with a bob of her head and a wave of her hand, leaving the rest unsaid. The boys knew her well enough not to pry any further.

"So… um… how was the conference?" Ryan ventured hesitantly.

"Okay," she shrugged, hopping up onto the edge of her desk, back ramrod straight as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Most of it was about counterterrorism. Not that I can blame them, especially after we had that dirty bomb scare."  
"Yeah, don't remind me," Esposito shivered, obviously recalling, with some discomfort, when during the course of their investigation into a dirty bomb they'd gotten trapped in a freezing shipping container. It had only been fortune and luck that Ryan and Agent Fallon had made it to them in time. Kate still felt a little guilty over the incident. She'd talked Espo into going rogue with her. Sometimes, he was too loyal for his own good.

"So, what have you two knuckleheads been up to while I was away?" she asked, shifting focus away from herself. Besides, she was interested in getting caught up on the case they were working on. It didn't look too interesting, but she'd welcome the distraction. Beckett had a routine. And, especially after her shooting, she liked sticking to it, even if it did get a little boring and monotonous.

Ryan opened his mouth to fill her in, but before he could start, the door to Captain Gates' office opened and Iron Gates came striding out towards them. "Detective Esposito, where are you on the—Oh, Detective Beckett, you're back."

The captain shifted her focus to Beckett, who was sitting casually on the edge of her desk. Feeling her boss's scrutinizing gaze, Kate slowly slipped off and stood on her feet. "Reporting for duty, sir," she announced tersely. Her and Gates had a rocky relationship. They hadn't really clicked well after Kate had returned from her three-month recovery leave. It had gotten a little better recently, though it was going to be a slow process between them. Plus, it was clear from the get-go that Gates could tell that all three of her top homicide detectives were keeping something from her.

At present, they survived on a mutual respect for each other's abilities. And even though she'd come from Internal Affairs, Kate had to admit that Gates was an effective leader and commanding officer of the homicide squad. She'd never admit it, but Kate could tell that Gates was keen on taking her under her wing, and mentoring her to become an even better cop and investigator. However Kate was dubious about the success of such an endeavor. Gates was a by the book kind of cop, while Kate, on the other hand, was willing to cross the line once and a while to get the job done.

Ryan and Esposito watched the stand off with mildly concealed glee, waiting to see who would crack first.

Gates shifted and narrowed her eyes at the boys, not at all amused. Turning her attention back on Kate, the captain gestured towards her office. "My office. Now," she declared, before spinning on her heels and marching straight off, expecting Beckett follow.

Kate sighed, and let her shoulders sag in displeasure. She glanced at the boys for support. Ryan gave her a sympathetic look, while Esposito gave her an encouraging thumbs-up. It was almost like being called to the principle's office. She turned away from them and walked through the doorway and into the captain's office. She still had a little trouble reconciling the change. The desk was oriented differently, and the picture frames sitting against the back wall all had the wrong faces smiles back. Despite the months that had passed since his death, it was still Captain's Montgomery's office to her.

"Shut the door," Gates instructed, stepping behind her desk.

Kate quickly did as she was told. "Sir…," she decided to preempt whatever her captain was going to say. "I know you gave me the whole week off, but I don't need it. The extended weekend was more than enough. I'm ready to get back to work."

"I understand, Detective," Gates asserted, though Kate doubted that. "I do. You're a damn fine detective. One of the city's best. You've got a drive parallel to none. And I admire that. However, you're wearing yourself too thin. We all see it. You are here before everyone else, and usually the last to leave. That vacation time I gave you; it wasn't a suggestion, Detective. It was an order."

"But, sir…"

"No buts, Detective Beckett," Gates cut her off with a raised hand. "My decision is final. I don't want to see you back here until next Monday. Now go, and for heaven's sake, relax and enjoy yourself."

"Yes, sir," Kate gritted out, irritated at being forced into taking time off. It was the same with Montgomery. When she'd been working particularly hard and skipping meals, he would pull her aside and 'suggest' she'd take a few days off. Though, she would listen to Montgomery more often than not, and he hardly ever had to make it an order.

Leaving the captain's office, Kate stomped back to her desk, grumbling to herself as she retrieved her bag and coat. "I guess I'm still on vacation," she informed her co-workers. The boys exchanged a look before Esposito stood up and stood beside her desk as she finished collecting her things.

"Beckett," he spoke up softly, catching her eye. "I know you hate taking vacation time, but trust me, you need it. At the very least, try and enjoy yourself. Okay?"

She sighed, and carded her fingers through her hair, averting her eyes from Esposito's firm gaze. "Yeah, okay, I'll try," she breathed out, letting some of the tension in her shoulders relax and grudgingly agreeing to his suggestion. She furrowed her brow as she looked down, thinking of the previous night, and the decisions and promises she'd made to herself after Josh had left. Glancing back up, she forced a smile. "I'll see you guys in a week." Kate gave them a little halfhearted wave as she stalked back to the elevator.

XXX

He glanced both ways, checking the hallway one last time. Gripping the brim of his red baseball cap, he tugged at it to conceal more of his features before he dropped his eyes back down to the lock. He twisted around the two small hairclips until he heard the tumblers click. He was in. Grinning, he entered the apartment and silently closed the door behind him.

He took a moment to simply take in his surroundings, letting it all soak in. It was a modest sized apartment, but comfortably furnished with an almost bohemian style. The couch looked comfort, adorned with mismatching throw pillows, and a quilt that looked to be a gift from an older relative, perhaps a grandmother. Books lined the shelves, along with various knick-knacks that were placed with care all around the small living area. It had been a while since he'd ever been in someplace that was so… homey. It was kind of nice.

Looking around, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Their little bump in the check-in queue had been anything but an accident. He felt a little guilty for deceiving her, but at the time she'd been the most convenient method to get it through the security checkpoint. Plus, it helped that she was a cop. It hadn't been hard for him to notice. There had been something about her bearing that just radiated her authority. And he'd caught a glimpse of her badge still clipped on her hip.

Now… all he had to do was find that roller case.

He began with a methodical search of the living area. However, it appeared she wasn't as lazy as some other 'just returned from home' travelers, and hadn't left her luggage just sitting by the door or in the living room. He was going to need to hunt deeper into her apartment. He took a step towards a doorway that looked like it led to her bedroom. Just as he was about to push the door open, the small device in the pocket of his khaki jacket began to buzz.

Swiftly reaching inside his jacket, he pulled the device out and flipped it open. A frown creased his brow as a series of numbers scrolled across the screen, and he let out a groan.

"Damn," he muttered, gritting his teeth in frustration. He'd need to be deal with this immediately. There was no time for delay. He couldn't waste any time searching her apartment for what he was looking for. He quickly punched in a response, and pressed the send button, before returning the device to his jacket pocket. Glancing back up at the bedroom door with reluctant gaze, he sighed, and turned away, making his exist from the detective's apartment with haste.

He'd have to return later. At least for now… it was safe.

XXX

Pushing some of her weight into the door, she slipped into the main autopsy room at the OCME, in search of her best friend. After her 'meeting' with Captain Gates, Kate was in need of a sounding board for her frustrations. And no one was better at hearing her out and offering solid advice than Lanie. However, upon entering the room, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw two scrub clad individuals hunched over a body of a middle-aged man, halfway through cutting into his chest cavity. She clenched her jaw and swallowed thickly. No matter how many times she'd seen it, the sight was still a disturbing image. One of the medical examiners' raised his visor, and peered across at her with beady eyes.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure, Detective Beckett?" Perlmutter greeted her with his usual permanent scowl and grim attitude. Forever the life of the party, that one.

"I'm looking for Lanie."

"Ah, of course," Perlmutter grumbled, sounding disappointed. She remembered Lanie telling her once that the man might have a thing for her. "Dr. Parish is in her office." He gestured with the bloody bone cutters in his hands.

Kate gave a nod of thanks, before quickly turning away from the gruesome sight of a man with his chest halfway cut open, and walked as fast as she could across the autopsy room, trying to ignore the disturbing sounds of the sardonically inclined medical examiner using the bone cutters to snap the ribs of his 'patient'. Shuffling along the back wall, Kate slipped through the opened door and let out a breath of relief when she found Lanie sitting at her desk going over some files.

Lanie glanced up, curious as to what was causing the shadow to fall across her desk, and grinned when she saw whom it was. "Kate," she enthused, jumping up out of her chair and pulling her into a hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you back so soon."

"Well, technically, I'm not back," Kate grumbled as they pulled back from their friendly embrace. She plopped down into the chair next to the desk as Lanie returned to her seat.

"You tried coming back into work today, didn't you?"

"Yeah. But Captain 'Iron Gates' ordered me out."

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I have to agree with Gates on this one," Lanie asserted, flashing her a contrite expression.

"Wha—why Lanie?" Kate choked out, feeling slightly betrayed by her best friend. She had expected Lanie to side with her on this issue.

"_Puh-lease_," drawled out Lanie, gracing her with one of her best 'are you serious' expressions. "Kate, have you seen yourself in the mirror recently? You work yourself to the bone. When was the last time you went out and just had some fun?"

"Uh…," Kate knitted her eyebrows together as she thought. Her brow creased and she narrowed her eyes, staring at the wall.

"If you have to think about it, then it's been too long," Lanie interjected, shaking her head in disappointment.

"Lanie, come on… I… I just don't really have the time or inclination," she asserted, trying to defend herself. "Fun is not easy. You know how much effort it takes to actually have fun? Too much, is all I have to say."

"Oh, girl, you are so wrong," Lanie declared with a chuckle. "So wrong."

"I don't need fun," Kate insisted. She didn't know who she was trying to convince more, Lanie… or herself. "I like my life as it is now. It's easy. Not complicated like it was before… before…," her trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. It didn't need to be said. She had a scar on her chest that proved just how _bad_ complicated really was. "And right now, that's what I need," she managed to finish, though Kate didn't like how her voiced wavered at the end. She studiously ignored the little voice inside her head that spoke of the desires she'd had last night about wanting to cease waiting around and to actively search for the happiness she secretly craved.

"Sometimes you need a little complicated in your life," Lanie asserted, ignoring her little tirade. "Just look at me and Javier… we've had our struggles, and it's been far from easy. But I'll tell you one thing, Kate; it hasn't been dull, that's for sure."

"Lanie," Kate sighed, exasperated. Recently it was beginning to feel like they always had this conversation. "Some people are perfectly happy with living a normal, uneventful life. They don't need to go out and be spontaneous. They like order… and routine. And, I happen to be one of them. I get up, go to work, go home, and then go to bed. And I'm perfectly fine with that. I'm comfortable with that. I _need_ that stability… that routine right now."

Her life had been far from uneventful in the last couple years. After years of searching, she'd finally begun to make headway in her mother's case. But that's when the shit hit the fan. Everything turned upside down, and before she knew it, her mentor… _her captain_… was dead, after confessing his past sins and seeking redemption. She forgave him. She had too. He'd been like a second father to her when her own had been lost to her. And then she'd been shot and nearly died. Her life had been plenty eventful and complicated. She was just starting to get her life back in order.

The last thing she needed was some _fun_.

"I hear you, I do," Lanie asserted, reaching out to grab her hands. Kate dropped her head and closed her eyes, taking what comfort she could from her friend. "What you went through… it was hell. And you survived. You walked away. But, Kate, hon, you're not really living. It's not enough to just exist. Your life needs to be about more than just your job." She paused, coaxing Kate's eyes back up to her own. "Don't you get bored with running on repeat?"

Kate swallowed and averted her gaze, unable to meet the truth of her friend's words. What was she doing? Why was she fighting this? Just last night she'd decided—_promised herself_—that she'd stop dwelling in the past and look towards a future, one in which her life was more than a mother's death and a daughter's grief. Kate had grown tired of not expecting anything out of life, and she needed to stop the vicious cycle she was on before she lost herself in the mundane routine of the day to day.

Letting out a breath, Kate made a decision. "Yes," she declared, surrendering to her own desires for more, putting as much confidence into her voice as she could muster. "I'm bored. Okay. I'm tired of the same thing, day after day after day. I want to live my life, having some excitement, something new, something fresh… but...," she petered out, her energy and enthusiasm spent. She sighed, and brushed her hair back from her face. "I just… just don't know how to do that, Lanie."

Silence settled between them, and Kate heaved in a deep breath, feeling her cheeks warm with a blush. She couldn't believe she'd been able to get that all off her chest. Dr. Burke would be proud. She wasn't sure if she was ready for what Lanie might offer, but Kate was willing to admit that it would probably be better than sitting around doing nothing all week. Lanie stared at her for a long moment, before a sly smile spread across her face.

Kate's brow wrinkled as she looked at her friend in confusion, slowly getting a nagging feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. This could not be good. "What?"


	5. Chapter 4

**Private Eyes – Chapter 4**

There was a ruggedly handsome tourist standing in front of the laundromat, casually glancing at a map as if he was lost and looking to retrace his steps. Most people walking the streets ignored him, passing him by with only a passing thought, most believing he was what he appeared, completely unaware that he was actually secretly observing the apartment building across the street.

He had returned with haste after seeing to a slight annoyance. It had only been a minor setback, nothing too problematic. But it had caused a frustrating delay in his desires of an easy retrieval from the woman's apartment. He didn't want to sit on it for too long. Others would come searching for it, whose goals were of a more dubious nature than most. Yet, when he'd found his way back to her apartment, he had only barely missed the beautiful woman returning home early. This wasn't good. He had expected her to stay at work until late in the evening, yet there she was, unlocking the front door, a bag of groceries held precariously in one arm.

During the shuttle hop from Reagan to LaGuardia, he'd managed to get in some research on this mystery woman. He had been pleasantly surprised to discover she was a cop, a detective no less. She was quite an intriguing woman. And she was gorgeous. It was no surprise that he found himself attracted to her, any red-blooded man would be. But it was more than that. He remembered the sadness in her eyes when he'd manufactured their little collision in the check-in queue, and he found himself, despite more pressing issues, wanting to know the story… _her _story, how regardless of the obvious hurt and pain she bore, she'd managed to find the ambition and drive to become one of the NYPD's best homicide detectives.

He found it all very fascinating, and if he didn't have other more urgent business, he would have taken longer to observe and study her. This urge… to know the story, had served him well in his many years with the Company. But it was also a reminder of a far different time; a time before his life had become all about subterfuge, unacknowledged heroics, and dangers that lurked around every corner. It was a hard life, yet he was still able to find some smidgen of reward in his work… most of the time.

And Kate Beckett… well, she was dangerous. She was an unknown quantity that had to be removed from the situation as soon as possible. It had been mere convenience that had brought her into the game—a very deadly game; one with high-stakes and potential fatal risks. From what small fraction about her that he'd learned the short duration of his flight, he had no desire to see her dragged any further into it. Yet, he had to admit, the longer it was in possession, even unknowingly, the more unavoidable that that might become.

A flash of light caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes, just barely making out her slim silhouette through the glass windows. She was talking on her phone. Pursing his lips, he retrieved the small device from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. He punched in a series of commands, and upon prompting, entered in her phone number. Raising the device to his ear, he shoved down the swell of guilt at eavesdropping on Detective Beckett's private conversations.

His eyebrows rose with interest at what he was hearing. Perhaps there was another way to get what he wanted without breaking into her apartment. Disconnecting the tap, he quickly pulled up the information from the website she'd been discussing with her friend. A plan began to formulate in his mind. Powering down his device, he pocketed it, and glanced back up at Detective Beckett's window, watching as she began to pace back and forth in her living room.

What he had in mind was a potential distraction, but even with the dangers looming over his head, part of him couldn't resist the fun to be had, especially if it could get him closer to Detective Katherine Houghton Beckett.

XXX

What in the hell was she doing here? She had no idea how she'd let Lanie talk her into this. Kate had agreed with her friend that she needed a change in her routine, something fresh and exciting… but she hadn't meant this. It was almost like jumping into the deep end after spending all her time in the shallow end of the pool. She was not ready for this. Not ready at all.

The place was fancy and had an extremely long wait list. Kate had no idea how Lanie had managed to get her a reservation. She could only conclude it involved calling in a lot of favors, and/or promising some in return. Everyone around her was dress in fabulous designer clothing. It made her feel self-conscious. She was out of place in her off the rack red dress. It draped across her torso enticingly, leaving on shoulder tastefully exposed, and was short enough to display enough leg to be sexy, yet remain classy at the same time. Lanie had helped her with her hair, adding some nice little touches that brought out the ringlets of brunette curls in a playful updo.

"Just relax, Kate. Be yourself," Lanie had assured her as she'd left her apartment. "Don't forget to have fun!"

Fun? How was she supposed to have fun when her stomach felt like it was doing flip-flops. She felt so nervous. Her entire body was buzzing with it. Glancing around at all the happy people, chatting and smiling, Kate heaved in an anxious breath. She checked her wristwatch—again—wondering if she'd gotten the time wrong. Her _date_ was supposed to be here.

When she looked back up, Kate saw a gorgeous man enter the restaurant. He paused and spoke with the maître d', who directed him in Kate's direction. The man gave a dazzling smile, and thanked the maître d', before walking towards her. Her stomach began to flutter with butterflies and her nerves began to rise, as he got closer. She hadn't expected him to be so… so… hot. His suit was fitted and hugged his masculine form just right. Kate had to remind herself to breathe, least she pass out from lack of oxygen.

He got closer, and Kate worked hard at stifling the wild feeling in her stomach. She pursed her lips and listened to the thumping of her heart as it beat wildly in her chest. He was only a couple feet away. In moments, he'd be sitting down across from her, and… and… and he was walking past her, joining a group of similarly dressed men in the back. Kate blinked, stunned. Her cheeks flushed with warmth in embarrassment. She felt like such a fool. Of course _he_ hadn't there for her. He was too… too gorgeous. Slumping her shoulders dejectedly, she let out a sigh and looked away.

She reached for the glass of ice water on the table and took a sip, licking her lips as she placed it back down. Kate was beginning to think tonight was one big mistake. Maybe she should just cut her losses while she still had her dignity intact, and go home to a warm bath and her mystery books. When she looked back up, she spotted the maître d' approaching her table.

"Mademoiselle, are you sure I can't get you something while you wait?" the maître d' offered, giving her a sympathetic look. "A glass of wine, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," Kate shook her head, and smiled politely. She knitted her eyebrows together in thought. "The reservation was for eight o'clock, wasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am. It was."

Kate bit her lower lip and glanced back at her wristwatch, confirming that it was in fact nine o'clock. Damn. She started to feel the hit of rejection sinking into her chest. Seeming to sense her thoughts, either by the slight crumpling of her brow, or her overall dispirited body language, the maître d' offered her a reassuring smile.

"There was a terrible accident downtown," he informed her.

"Yeah, yeah," Kate gave a nod, willingly accepting such a scenario to ease the ache in her heart. "He's probably caught in that."

"Yes," agreed the maître d', with some added enthusiasm in the hopes of cheering her up. "I'm sure that's it."

Kate narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to give in to the humiliation of being stood up, on a blind date, no less. She swallowed hard past the rising lump in her throat. This wasn't what she'd been expecting when she'd agreed to Lanie's plan. It was just like the universe to do this to her, offering up some hope, and then snatching it away at the last minute. Fate… just wasn't on her side. Her bottom lip began to tremble from the force it was taking to keep it all buried deep inside her. Everything was just stacking against her. Perhaps she'd been wrong to all the hope of a brighter future to break through into her disheartened addled mind.

She almost flushed with mortification as she felt two stray tears slipped down her cheeks. No. No. She would not cry in public. She hastily wiped them away, and glanced down at the table, suddenly finding the white folded napkin extremely interesting.

The maître d' graciously stepped back, giving her some privacy to mourn her failure of a date. He approached a nearby waiter, who'd also been witnessing her turmoil. "_Bastard_," the maître d' grumbled under his breath. The waiter nodded in agreement, both feeling for the distraught woman.

XXX

Agent Turner stepped out of the woman's locker room, feeling refreshed and clean, pulling on a new blazer. She walked down the spartan concrete hallway at an ease clip. Turning on the corner, she stepped into a vast room with state of the art surveillance equipment. Large screens mounted on the walls displayed various satellite images of New York City, along with CCTV footage from across all five boroughs. Two dozen or so agents were manning computer consoles, each working diligently to fulfill the orders she'd issued an hour ago.

Danberg was in the middle of talking with Agent Jones when he spotted her walking in. He immediately dismissed the younger agent and approached her with an agreeable expression. Turner pursed her lips, holding back a grin, knowing that they must have found something while she was taking her shower. She changed directions for the coffee machine. Pouring herself a cup and taking a long gulp of the scolding liquid as Agent Danberg approached.

"How was the shower?"

"Much needed," she replied with a smirk. "What have you got?"

Not one for playing around, Danberg went right to it. "At approximately 1:47 this afternoon someone hacked into Overlord, our covert listening surveillance network."

"Was it him?"

"We believe so, yes," Danberg confirmed with a nod. "He was only in for a few minutes, not long enough for use to run a trace. But we do have confirmation that he's in Tribeca. But now that we know what path he used, we should be able to trace him quicker the next time he logs in."

Turner let herself grin. The arrogant son-of-a-bitch thought they wouldn't notice him using the TCD-74. The 188 was newer, but the 74 was still reliable, even if it was outdated. _Just like his old man_, she thought ruefully, recalling one of her encounters with the aging spy. Toping off her coffee, she took another sip, before turning and marching up into the command post. She surveyed the monitors, the central one already honed in on Tribeca.

She frowned as she stared at the satellite image. "That's still a lot of ground to cover," Turner said. "Start some canvassing. Use local law enforcement if needed, but keep it… discreet. No one needs to know what we're really doing, or who we're looking for."

Danberg inclined his head in agreement. "I've already worked up a cover story."

"Good, then let's get started. I want _him_ in our holding cell by the end of the day."

XXX

Kate dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief as she sniffled, finally managing to regain some meager amount of control over her emotions. She could feel the eyes on her, and she couldn't handle the shame. It was too much to bear. Ducking her head, she reached down to retrieve her purse. It was time to leave, go home, and find some solace in her books and a nice long bubble bath. Yeah. That's what she needed… some personal pampering.

"Hello," a smooth voice interrupted her little pity party, and she glanced up, startled to see a very dapper and handsome man standing before her. He had amazing brown hair and bright blue eyes that squinted adorably when he smiled. He had Italian shoes that looked sinfully expensive, and his suit was equally exquisite. It had to have cost more than one month's worth of her salary.

"Um…," she stammered, inexplicably finding herself at a loss for words.

"Are you…?" he began.

"Kate, yeah," she finally managed to speak, her cheeks warming with slight embarrassment over how tongue-tied she was. Her heart began to pound fiercely in her chest as she gazed back up at him. "And you're… Andrew?"

"Guilty as charged," he chuckled effortlessly, relaxed and at ease. "And please, call me Andy. I'm so sorry. How long have you been—?"

"Oh, not long," she fudged the truth, not wanting the night to be ruined before it got a chance to start, even if it was beginning a little later than originally planned. "That's okay."

He grinned with relief, and extended his hand. She smiled up at him, and they shook hands in greeting. Kate couldn't believe her luck. After her mistake with that first gorgeous man to walk in, she would never have thought that another would show up and actually be her date. But here he was, currently sitting down across from her with a suave smile. She hazarded a quick glance around, noting with some satisfaction that some of the other female patrons were staring her way with envy in their eyes.

"Just so you know," Andy said casually, as he picked up his menu, "this is not me. I'm not _that guy_ who keeps a lady waiting."

Kate laughed easily, unexpectedly finding herself falling for his charm. "What guy are you, then?"

He grinned at her, and wiggled his eyebrows. "Right now, a thirsty one." He put the menu down in favor of the wine list. "Now… what should we order," he glanced up at her with keen eyes, and for a moment, she felt a little uncomfortable. It was almost as if he was gleaming secrets from her with just his piercing gaze. "You look like a red girl to me. Yeah… _red_."

His smile was disarming, and she lost herself in his handsome features, only vaguely aware that he was conversing with the maître d' in flawless French. He had the man laughing by the end of their conversation, and the maître d' then bowed and moved off to fetch them their wine. A small smile crossed Andy's face as he turned back to her.

"So…" he began, attempting to start a conversation.

"Have you done this before?" Kate questioned, unable to keep a nervous quality from her voice.

"What?" he grinned. "Had dinner with a beautiful woman? Once or twice."

Kate found herself blushing at his flattery. This was so not like her, but there was something about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. He just seemed to exude this confidence and charm that was pulling her in. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

"Oh… no," she said, shaking her head, bringing a hand up to brush back some of the loose curls that had strayed down over the side of her face. "Online dated?"

Andy raised his eyebrows. "No. Can't say that I have. This is a first for me."

"Me too," she confessed, ducking her head down shyly. She furrowed her brows together, and glanced back up at him with a curious expression. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you pick me?" she elaborated.

He chuckled and gestured across to her. "Look at you," he asserted, grinning at her with a sexy little quirk of his lips.

"But… I… um… my… _I_ didn't post a picture," Kate asserted, remembering that the dating website Lanie had used was a blind date service, and didn't allow photos.

It had irritated her at first, that her friend had already taken the initiative of creating a profile for her on some dating website like while she'd been away at the conference in Washington, D.C., even if Lanie had the best of intentions. It was still a little frustrating. But she loved Lanie dearly, and Kate knew that she had only done that because she cared. When they'd checked the website, they'd found that her profile had already generated some interest, and with Lanie's help, Kate had selected Andrew Miller. She'd gotten a quick response from him, and before she knew it, Kate had a date.

"Oh, yeah…," Andy frowned, his eyes averting from hers for a moment. "No. I know, but… there was so much beauty in how you described yourself. In your words."

"Really?" Kate couldn't help the unladylike snort from escaping. She quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment before continuing. "Hate to break it to you, but I really didn't write that. It was my friend, Lanie. She was the one who actually created my profile."

"Devious," Andy chuckled, his eyes squinting in delight. "Well, I'm glad she did. If she hadn't, I would never have had the pleasure of dining with you here tonight."

Kate smiled back at him, bringing a hand up to play with a loose strand of hair. "Yeah," she replied easily. "Me too."

They were interrupted by the waiter returning with their wine. Kate looked at the bottle, and her eyes widen when she noticed the label. It was an extremely expensive bottle. She glanced back towards Andy with some trepidation.

"I… I'm sorry, I can't afford that," she stammered out. "It's too expensive."

"Don't worry about it," Andy assured her with an easy smile. "I've got it covered." He gave a nod to the waiter, and the young man proceeded to open the bottle. His eyes returned to her, and she tried not to let the price of the wine get to her. She really wanted to have a good time, and fretting about a bottle of wine was not going to do her any favors. "So," Andy inquired, pulling her attention back to him. "What made you choose me from all the other eligible men clambering at the walls to get a date with you?"

Kate glanced down at the swirling red liquid filling the glass of wine in front of her as she thought. "It was your poem that got me," she asserted.

"My poem?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "It was… amazing."

Andy smirked, his eyes lighting up as he watched her sigh with remembrance. "Please… don't make me recite it now," he chuckled.

"That first line was so beautiful," Kate continued. "You really have a way with words."

"_Roses are red_…," he began with a playful smirk.

"Alright, alright," Kate held up a hand to stop him. "I won't force you."

Andy just smiled at her, his blue eyes twinkling with that undeniable charm that he possessed, and Kate shifted in her seat, feeling her heart flutter in her chest. She didn't know what quite to make of all this. It had been a long time since she'd had this sort of reaction to anyone… least of all a strange man she'd agreed to have dinner with over an online dating service. She was unsure on how exactly she should proceed.

"What should we toast to?" he asked, raising his now filled glass of wine.

Kate blinked, just realizing that the waiter was gone and it was just the two of them again. She swallowed nervously, and grabbed her glass, raising it up to match him. "Taking risks," she declared after some thought.

"Ooh, good one," Andy agreed with a grin.

They clinked glasses, and she raised her glass to her lips, taking a delicate sip. She kept her eyes on him the whole time. She really couldn't believe her luck. She'd been so apprehensive before, concerned that she'd made a terrible mistake in accepting Lanie's suggestion of a blind date. Despite her initial misgivings, Kate was actually beginning to enjoy herself and feel that seldom hope for a brighter future return. She took another sip of the amazingly delicious wine and made a mental note to thank her friend.

As she placed her glass back down on the pristine white tablecloth, she noticed that Andy was staring at something behind her. Kate arched her neck and glanced over her shoulder to see two men in ubiquitous black suits walk past the front glass façade of the restaurant. When Kate turned back around, she noticed that Andy's hand had dropped under the table. She saw what appeared to be an old cell phone, but before she could get a proper look, he quickly flipped it shut and put it back in his pocket.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing in curiosity.

"Oh, yeah… sorry…," he said with a quick smile. "Work."

Kate nodded in understanding. "Must be pretty busy nowadays."

"Huh? Um, yeah… really busy," he answered smoothly after his initial hesitation.

She frowned, confused as to his puzzled expression. "So, where'd you learn French? I heard you ordering the wine, and I have to say, I'm impressed."

"Junior High," he answered with a touch of humor. Kate narrowed her eyes and stared at him with a slightly tilted head. He smiled. "I learned on the job."

"As a tax auditor?" she questioned, dubious.

"Boy," Andy chuckled, leaning back. "You really do read those profiles, don't you?" When she didn't respond, he continued. "My… _old_ job. International relations. I speak a dozen languages, and a few dialects."

"Fluently?"

"Just enough to order a decent bottle of wine," he replied with a cheeky grin. He made another toast, and they pause to savor his extreme well-picked selection of wine.

"Very decent," she replied with a grin, savoring the flavor. Oh, this wine was doing things to her. It was making her feel all… But, Kate ignored it. She wasn't one to put out on a first date, even if the wine was putting her in the mood. "So you travel a lot?"

"Constantly. You?"

Kate shook her head. "Not so much," she confessed. "To tell the truth, I'm sort of a workaholic. I'm only here tonight because my boss ordered me on a week vacation."

"What kind of work do you do?" he asked.

And Kate felt like groaning. There it was, the question she always dreaded when first meeting a nice guy. Not many men responded well to 'Oh, I'm a cop' or variations there in. They were either turned on by it, asking where she kept her handcuffs and if she'd be willing to 'play around' with them, or they were completely freaked out. Kate swallowed and glanced up at Andy with a combination of mild fear and consternation.

Kate heaved in a breath, and took a long gulp of wine to fortify her nerves. _Might as well just get it over with_, she thought. "I'm a detective," she answered. "Homicide." She tensed her muscles, awaiting his response with apprehension.

"Really!? That's so cool!" he enthused, grinning widely in delight.

What? That had not been the reaction she'd been expecting. She glanced back up and saw genuine interest in his eyes. Kate let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in, and let herself relax. After that, they fell into easy conversation. Andy asked her about cases she'd recently worked, and what it was like being a cop. He was enthralled with her, and she was a little overwhelmed, not used to the attention.

She was in the middle of telling him about her recent trip to D.C. for the conference, when an image from her memory suddenly jumped into the forefront of her mind, making her stop mid-sentence. Andy looked at her questioningly and she furrowed her brow as she glanced back at him.

"I'm sorry, this might seem weird… but have we met before?" she asked. There was just something about him that was so very familiar. She hadn't been able to tell what it was earlier, but now that they'd had some time to get to know each other, Kate realized that it was his eyes—his startling blue eyes.

"No," he quickly asserted with a shake of his head.

"Are you sure?" she pressed, narrowing her eyes. Her instincts from years of interrogating suspects were on alert. He was holding out on her for some reason.

"Oh yes," he inclined his head. "I assure you, if we'd met before, I would have remembered you." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And do you know, you have gorgeous eyes. Has anyone ever told you that before?"

"Um… no," she shook her head bashfully. She couldn't stop the blush from rising up her cheeks, even if she'd wanted to.

Kate knitted her eyebrows together, averting her eyes as she racked her brain for an associated memory to the image of marvelous blue eyes, so clear and self-assured, that was currently invading her mind. There was just something so enticingly familiar about that spark that shown out from his eyes. They had to have had met sometime, if even for just a brief moment. She jerked her head back up, intent on questioning him further, but she wasn't able to form a single word, because his mouth was suddenly covering hers.

Startled, Kate let out a gasp of surprise, but soon surrendered to the wonderful sensations his lips moving against hers evoke from within. It was like an electric spark, thundering through her veins, bringing her back to life. His hand moved up to palm her cheek, and she closed her eyes, easing into his touch. Thoughts of the world around them melted away as he deepened the kiss, and she fought to suppress the little moan that wanted escape. He grinned, almost smugly, and she flicker her eyes up at his, seeing cobalt blue that did unexpectedly delightful things to her insides.

But then the moment was broken when an older woman sitting at a table across from them with her elderly mother grumbled, "Just get a room." His eyes were no longer on her, but instead were gazing over her shoulder. As if sensing her unease, Andy slowly withdrew, giving her a contrite smile.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he explained with a mischievous smirk.

"No… no," Kate blushed, biting her lower lip, still tasting him on her tongue. She tried really hard not to think about all the fellow diners that had witnessed their intense kiss. It had been a while since anyone had kissed her so passionately in public, for full view of anyone and everyone to see. Next to this kiss, all the kisses she'd shared with Josh in their year long relationship were nothing, paling in comparison. "That… was unexpected, but not at all unpleasant."

"Right," he bobbed his head, furrowing his brow as he distractedly looked over her shoulder. "Look, I need to use the restroom."

"Okay," she answered, still a little disoriented from the amazing kiss. She was in a slight daze, reaching up to touch her lips, still humming from the kiss, that she was only vaguely aware of him getting up and quickly walking towards the back of the restaurant, where the restrooms were located.

Kate shook her head, and glanced over her shoulder, remembering his distracted stare, curious as to what had pulled his attention away from their amazing kiss. She spotted a man and woman, who appeared vaguely familiar, talking with the maître d'. Just like with Andy and his sparkling blue eyes, she couldn't quite place where she might remember them from, but then she saw one of them flash a badge that looked like FBI.

She shrugged and turned back to stare at his empty chair, suddenly recalling her words. _Ugh. 'Not at all unpleasant'? Really, Kate, what were you thinking?_ She sighed, scrubbing a hand over her face, before she reached for her glass of wine, taking a loud gulp of the red liquid. She was suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. Her heart was pounding profoundly within her chest, and her insides were all twisted with feelings that had lain dormant for longer than she'd care to admit. Kate was getting close to freaking out over how fast things were progressing with Andy, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She was having fun, and she actually really liked the guy. She didn't want to blow it.

Heaving in a deep breath, Kate willed the tension away as she waited for Andy to return from the restrooms. She glanced back up and watched as the female federal agent surveyed the tables, ignoring the annoyed looks of some of the patrons, before her partner called her back. She left the restaurant with a disgruntled expression.

"Kate?"

She looked away from the restaurant's entrance. "Listen, I don't know what got into—" Kate stopped mid-sentence when she turned to find a good looking guy with blond hair and green eyes, dressed in a slightly disheveled suit, sliding down into the seat across from her. She blinked, a little surprised, having expected Andy to return.

"I'm so sorry," he said, oblivious to her confused stare. "The cab got a flat tire, and the subway was packed, and wouldn't you know it, my cell phone died and I couldn't call—"

"Who are you?" Kate interrupted, annoyed that some random guy thought he could just start talking to her whilst she was on a date. She looked over her shoulder towards the restrooms, willing Andy to come out and set this jerk straight.

"Andrew," the guy said, startling her. She raised her eyebrows and turned back to him with a stunned expression. "Andrew Miller."

Kate's mouth bobbed open and shut like a fish out of water. She glanced around the restaurant one more time, in disbelief, searching for Andy—if that had even been his real name—but he was gone. Nowhere to be seen. Slowly, tentatively, she shifted her attention back to the man sitting across from her, still uncertain as to what had just happened.

Spotting the glass of wine in front of him, Andrew said, "Oh. You ordered wine. So sorry. I should have told you… I'm allergic to grapes."


	6. Chapter 5

**Private Eyes – Chapter 5**

A ruggedly handsome man slipped out of the back door of the restaurant and into the narrow space in the back alley. He let out a mild curse, before he tugged his coat tighter around his broad frame in an attempt to ward off the chill of the night air. In his haste to leave, he had to leave his overcoat behind. Just moments ago he'd been inside enjoying some light and flirty conversation—not to mention a very nice glass of red wine—with a gorgeous woman, whom he found utterly fascinating. He'd met dozens and dozens of intriguing and breathtaking women through his various assignments around the globe. But none of them were like her. _She_ was different.

And if it hadn't been for the unexpected and untimely appearance of Agent Sophia Turner and her goons, he might have actually been able to enjoy a nice dinner with Detective Kate Beckett, and then perhaps talk his way into her apartment for a little after dinner entertainment. He was good at both. After which, while she slept—no doubt fully sated and satisfied—he'd retrieve the device from her roller. And then he'd be able to end this little delay and continue with his mission.

But a large part of him hoped that that didn't mean it would be the end when it came to the lovely NYPD detective. He didn't want her to be just another one of his conquest. No. He was tired of that. He wanted… more, and he could see a potential in Kate Beckett that was simply irresistible. _Maybe later_, he thought, _when everything has settled down_.

Nudging forward along the side of the building, he paused at the corner, and glanced around to see Agent Turner strolling out of the restaurant in a huff, looking thoroughly displeased. She yanked her phone out of her jacket pocket as another agent he recognized as Martin Danberg held the door of a black SUV open for her.

"No, he got away," Turner snapped into the phone, too frustrated to even care how loud she was speaking. It gave him the perfect chance to eavesdrop. "Get the techs working on the traces from the 74. See what else they can scrub from—" She scooted inside the backseat of the SUV and Danberg closed the door, cutting off the rest of her sentence. But he had a fairly good idea what it was that Turner wanted her tech people to do.

Turning his back to the street as the other agents climbed into the SUV and drove off, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and flipped it around in his hands until he could tear the back off. Normally, he'd prefer a more sterile environment than the side alley by a restaurant to do this sort of procedure, but at present he just didn't have time to wait. Somehow they'd manage to trace his location via the outdated TCD model in his hand. He'd expected it, but not as fast.

Sliding the back cover off, he pulled out the clunky battery to get at the interior compartment. Using the flat pad of his thumb, he pushed open another lid to reveal some fancy gadgetry that the boys back in Langley had come up with. He located a small chip with the use of his index and middle fingers, and, as gently as possible, plucked it out of its socket. For a second or two, he simply stared at it, before he tossed it to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his shoe. He'd have to remember to get a replacement chip ASAP; otherwise he would be unable to utilize the TCD-74 to maximum functionality.

He hurriedly reassembled the device. Snapping the back cover on, he turned it over in his hands and flipped it open. When the screen lit up, a standard cellular network interface appeared. He grunted slightly in annoyance, having grown accustomed to the TCD interface, but managed to work quickly at sending a text in a coded message. When he got a response, he let out a frustrated sigh. So much to do, so little time. After punching in a quick response, he stashed the device back inside his jacket. Finished for now, and needing to be somewhere else, he stuck his hands in his pockets and ducked his head down as he merged into the foot traffic along the sidewalk, disappearing from sight.

XXX

Kate was so embarrassed. She had just started to relax and have a good time with Andy, when everything seemingly changed in the blink of an eye. He disappeared off to the restrooms, never to return. In his place appeared the real Andrew Miller. Kate had been so mortified and humiliated that she had hardly been able to mumble out a quick apology to her real blind date before she had managed to make a hasty exit.

She had hurried home, fuming inside with indignation. To begin with, it had been very hard for her to agree to Lanie's suggestion of going on a blind date. Kate was a very private person, despite having a considerable wild-child phase in her youth. She'd sobered, mellowing out after her mother's death, becoming melancholy and lugubrious. She had built up walls around her heart to protect herself. Outwardly, she would often appear cold and unfeeling, displaying a stoic expression, showing little to no emotion, but inwardly Kate was still that terrified young woman who'd lost her mother.

Relationships, as a result, had become difficult for her. She had trouble with forming attachments. Despite that, she'd managed to grow, thanks in large part to friends like Lanie and the boys, and a mentor like Montgomery. His loss still hurt. He'd been so instrumental in helping her become the cop she was today. If it hadn't been for him, she might never had found her true calling in bringing justice and closure to others.

Shrugging out of the red dress, kicking off her high heels, and donning a purple t-shirt too large for her and some black leggings, Kate collapsed onto the sofa with a sigh of disappointment. Tonight had had… potential. So much potential. She would freely admit that at first she'd been nervous. And then when he hadn't showed up on time, and kept her waiting, she'd been hit with the bitter feeling of rejection. It was like she had the worse lock in the universe, that she was destined to be alone and miserable.

But then he'd arrived, and all her earlier doubts and fears had vanished like dust in the wind. They'd hit it off, really well, and she had started to feel a lot better about herself. He was charming, funny, confident… and handsome… oh, was he handsome! She had been so worried that he'd turn out to be some weirdo. But no. He'd been far from that. And then it all fell apart.

Tears started to prickle at the edge of her vision. Kate blinked furiously, wiping at her eyes in a futile attempt to keep them at bay. But it was useless. The tears spilled over all the same, streaming down her cheeks in rivers of dejection and despondency. She rolled over onto her side and curled in on herself, hugging her legs to her chest as she openly wept for her miserable and pathetic love life.

It seemed as if nothing was going to go her way this year… not even a simple blind date.

XXX

Clasping his hands behind his back, he perused the shop's interior. The shelves were crammed with an eclectic collection of used or out-of-date electronics, ranging from VCRs to old 8-track tapes. An archaic CB Radio rested in the corner, and he even spotted one or two typewriters lying around the clutter. A couple of old 80s era movie posters decorate the remaining available wall space, all pro-America themed, like the vintage _Top Gun _and_ The Right Stuff_ posters, as well as the oddly ironic _Red Dawn_, considering home country of the shop's proprietor. It was late, and the shop would normally be closed. But the owner was an old friend.

"_Siniy Prizrak!_"

He turned without hesitation as the aging Russian called out the familiar moniker that the former KGB agent had once "gifted" him with back in the day, during the early missions of his youth. He'd been a thorn in the side of the crumbling Soviet Union, and Markos Chapaev had been his nemesis until one day the KGB agent defected to the West. Over the intervening years, they'd gone from rivals to good friends. He'd often come to visit Chapaev over the years, seeking his expertise in the world of subterfuge and covert technologies. Now Mark Chapman of Brooklyn, New York, the former Russian spy sold and repaired used electronics for a living.

"Did you fix it?" he asked.

"_Da, _here you go," Chapaev said, stepping out from behind a curtain of colorful beads, having gone into the back of the shop to work on the device. "All better! Just like new."

The old Russian tossed him the flat gray device. He caught it in his hand with ease and flipped it open, watching as the screen lit up. Everything appeared normal. Chapaev maneuvered his broad frame around the display counter to stand beside him, pointing a finger at the TCD-74.

"It's older model than those that CIA use today," Chapaev spoke with a mild Muscovite accent. Though he'd lived more than 20 years in New York, having mastered the American accent long ago, the old bear still liked to put on a show for his American friend. "Which I believe was that point, yes?"

He nodded. "I wasn't going to make it too easy for them," he chuckled, a mischievous smirk dancing across his lips, already punching in some numbers. They stood and waited. He knew, what with the late hour, that a response wouldn't be immediate. After a couple of minutes, a series of numbers flashed across the screen and he grinned, pleased.

"Well done, Markos," he congratulated his one-time enemy turned friend. Chapaev had been one of his secret go-to guys over the years, and he'd never failed to deliver.

Chapaev smiled. "I thought you would like it, Blue Ghost. The new chip better than old one. Superior technology, nothing like what your CIA uses. House special, if you will. It should be untraceable by those clowns."

"Hey now," he admonished with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Some of those _clowns_ are my friends."

"True," Chapaev relented with a nod of his head, "but they are hunting you, so for now… they are clowns, _da_?"

"_Da_," he agreed with a chuckle, unable to dispute that logic. "How much do I owe you?"

"_Nichego!_" the old Russian said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Think nothing of it."

He shook his head, holding up the TCD-74. "I really needed that new chip," he asserted. And he had. Agent Turner and her techs had been able to trace his location far to easily with the previously installed chip. This new one, custom made by Chapaev should make him invisible to Overlord, the CIA's covert listening surveillance network. "Least I could do is give you something in return."

"_Da_, okay," Chapaev bobbed his head. The old bear put a hand on his shoulder and pursed his lips in a true Russian grin. "How about next time you visit, you bring a good bottle of Vodka. None of that imitation _der'mo_, but real Vodka from the motherland."

He smirked, pocketing the TCD-74 into his jacket pocket. "I'll see what I can do," he asserted. "Until next time, old friend."

"_Da_," Chapaev nodded. "Next time, _Siniy Prizrak_. _Do svidaniya__!_"

XXX

After waking up at 3 in the morning on the sofa, Kate used the bathroom, took some pain pills for her pounding headache, and then crawled into bed with every intention of sleeping until noon. Gates had given her the rest of the week off, so no one would care how late she slept in. Besides, after the disaster that was her blind date, Kate felt like hiding away in her apartment for a while.

When she finally woke up, it was about fifteen minutes past noon the following day. She stayed there, lying on her back, staring up at her ceiling trying not to think about last night. But it was impossible not too, especially when most of her dreams had been about _him_. She kept recalling his blue eyes, and that mischievous spark that had drawn her to them. Andy, or whatever his name, had been intriguing and fun. And from what little time she'd spent with him, she already knew she was attracted to him. There was just something about his presence that ignited some deep seeded needs that had been long dormant.

Growling in frustration, Kate kicked the covers off and rolled out of bed. She stripped out of her sleepwear and padded into the bathroom. She turned the shower knob to full blast, tentatively testing the spray with her hand until it was hot, hoping that the stinging heat would make her forget about the desire brewing below the surface. Kate relaxed under the hot cascade of water, letting her hair soak, and body cleanse. Still, the ache persisted, and she let out a sigh of surrender. She needed to take care of this… and soon, before she imploded from the tension.

Kate closed her eyes, and bit her lower lip, conjuring up images of "Andy" and his ruggedly handsome features, charming smile, and sparkling cobalt blue eyes. Yeah. She leaned her back against the tile wall, sighing in contentment, parting her legs as she slowly lowered her hand down her body.

XXX

He stepped out onto the rooftop garden with a groan. It was raining. He hated the rain. It soaked… everything. Ducking his head down, he glanced right and left, before proceeding towards the building's edge. His day had been long and unsatisfying. He'd spent most of it trying to evade Agent Turner's men. She'd obviously been thorough during the night, tracing all his previous steps before he ditched the old chip in his TCD-74. He'd been arrogant enough to assume his old places were still safe, which was why he was now on the rooftop garden of the building.

It was a nice apartment complex in Tribeca. He'd picked it mainly for his proximity to a certain detective's apartment, but it's use as a home base was rapidly running out. When he'd return from his surveillance of Beckett's apartment, disappointed she'd remained a homebody today, he had found three men dressed in black suits rummaging through his rental. They wouldn't find anything. Thankfully, he only ever traveled with what he could carry.

The rain was soft, and pleasant, but he still found it annoying. He had a thing against being surrounded by water. Probably had something to do with being waterboarded once… or twice. Showers and baths still got to him, but he could manage those… because he had control. Right now, however, he did not have control.

He made a sharp turn around a hedge, stepping into a little lounge area that tenants of the complex had set up. There were a couple of deck chairs, and a table with an umbrella. Some potted plants and flowers were scattered around in a mishmash of colors. Carefully, using his body as cover, he flipped open his TCD-74. He punched in a series of numbers, using the code he'd memorized to update his compatriot on the situation. He pressed the send button and waited for a response.

The device buzzed.

He looked down, but instead of seeing a series of incoherent numbers, he saw three letters that gave clear direction: **RUN**.

"Castle!" a voice shouted over the pitter-patter of rain.

Arching his neck, he looked over his shoulder to see the bulky forms of Agent Turner's goons. Slowly turning in place, he flashed them a reassuring smile as he raised his hands up in a gesture of submission. "Evening, boys…," he drawled out in a pleasant intonation. "What can I do for you?"

"You're coming with us, Castle," one said, coming forward to grab his forearm. "We've got a car waiting downstairs."

"Wow, thanks! I've always wanted to go for a ride with you guys," he enthused with a cheeky grin.

The two agents remained stone-faced, unimpressed. The other one tilted his head towards his collar, where a microphone was hidden, and muttered, "We got him."

The goon holding his arm tightened his grip and he glanced at him with a friendly expression, while he surreptitiously began clenching his free hand into a tight fist. "You sure about that?"

"Huh?"

The poor guy didn't see it coming. Neither did the other one. It was almost laughable at how easy it was.

XXX

She was going to the movies. Yeah. That's what she was doing. It was raining outside, and she was going to go to the movies. That's what normal people did when they're on forced leave, right? When it's raining outside, they either crash at home or they go to the movies. Having spent more than enough time at home, Kate had decided on the latter. She had no idea what was showing, but she was going to the movie theater, purchasing a ticket, and getting a large popcorn with a cherry ICEE.

Sitting back against the cushions of the taxi, Kate rested her head against the window glass as she watched the people hustle about in an attempt to get out of the rain. Normally Kate would have taken the subway to the movie theater, but seeing as it was raining, she'd opted to take a taxi so she wouldn't have to trudge through the sudden downpour to the subway station. And if she'd done that, she'd have to face the crowds, which wasn't something Kate was up to at the moment. She was still trying to get over the whole mild case of agoraphobia she'd developed after being shot.

Kate blinked, and knitted her eyebrows together. A sudden distressing thought occurred to her. A movie theater was a crowded enclosed place. Doubts began to assail her mind. She wasn't sure she could handle it. And even if she could, Kate didn't want to run the risk that she'd freak out and have a panic attack in public. She'd been embarrassed enough as it was already.

Leaning forward, Kate gave the cabbie a new address, deciding she'd go visit her father instead of going to a movie. Yeah. That was better. She hadn't seen her father in a couple of weeks, and it would do them both good to visit. The cabbie nodded, and activated the signal as he prepared to change lanes.

Kate sighed and slumped back against the backseat cushion. She let out a long exhale, feeling the coil of anxiety in the pit of her stomach unwind. She made a mental note that she needed to see Dr. Burke soon and talk about these unwelcomed feelings of apprehensiveness. She didn't like it. She was used to being in control. But she was positive that whatever the cause, she'd be able to tackle it and rustle it down into submission.

The movie theater would just have to—

_BAM!_

Kate let out a startled gasp as a man collided with the taxi's windshield. The cabbie cursed in some foreign tongue, and rammed his foot on the break. The man rolled off the front of the yellow taxi and onto the street.

"You okay, ma'am?" the startled cabbie inquired.

Kate bobbed her head, eyes wide in stunned disbelief. On instinct, from years of training, she quickly pushed the back door open and rushed to the front of the taxi to check on the man lying there. "Oh my god… are you okay!?" she asked, kneeling down to help him. He coughed, and struggled for a bit before he managed to roll over. Kate's jaw dropped as she recognized his face. "_You!_"

Andy—which was probably not his real name—hissed as he sat up and put his hand on his ribs. "Oh, man… that… um… okay, yeah, that really hurt…"

"Are… are you following me?" Kate demanded, suddenly feeling a panic erupt inside her. She'd been shot just a couple of months ago for digging into her mother's murder, which had gotten Montgomery killed, after he'd revealed his own part in it. She had honestly believed whoever was behind it all would have kept sending people after her once it was clear she'd survived the assassination attempt at Montgomery's funeral. Yet no one came.

His brow furrowed as he glanced up at her, his eyebrows knitted together as he let out a grunt of pain. He touched his side again, and grimaced, shaking his head.

"Where'd you come from?" she questioned, wanting answers. Not to mention a check for that expensive bottle of wine.

Andy's eyes flicked up, and Kate arched her neck to follow his gaze, spotting the edges of a rooftop garden on apartment complex above them. Her eyes grew wide with astonishment as she turned back to survey the man sitting on the street, wheezing gently. The cabbie had gotten out and was standing by the hood, nervously talking with his dispatcher on the phone.

"You _jumped_ onto the cab?" she asked, incredulously. Kate really couldn't believe this guy. He was certifiable.

He let out a groan, but managed a slight nod of his head. "Yeah," he grunted out, wincing through the pain as he narrowed his eyes. "Didn't look so high from up there…" His blue eyes quickly scanned over her and he grinned, extending a hand. "Rick."

"What?"

"That's my name. Rick Castle."

"Rick Castle? Right," Kate snorted in disbelief. "Like I'm going to believe anything you say after you lied to me."

"Hey, I only lied about the little things," he said with a cheeky smile, always the charmer, even after being involved in a vehicular accident. "The important stuff was true." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Ugh," she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

He shrugged and attempted to push himself up from the pavement, but slipped, his knees buckling. Kate groaned, but stepped in, pulling his arm over her shoulder and taking some of his weight. She had to suppress the slight shiver that danced up her spine as his body settled against hers. With their sides practically flush, Kate could feel the raw power beneath his soaked clothes. He caught her eye, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing on helping him to the taxi.

"You need a doctor," she asserted.

"No—no hospitals…," he stammered out. He cocked his head towards her. "But maybe another kiss? What do you think?" He gave her a flirtatious wink. "Because that first one… damn… it was—"

"A mistake!" Kate snapped out, though inside her heart was pounding out in protest beneath her breast.

"—was perfect," he finished with a somewhat dreamy expression. "Who taught you to kiss like that?"

Kate rolled her eyes, and let him dropped unceremoniously into the back of the taxi. "You're insane. Whatever your problem is, it's not my problem—"

"Well, actually—"

"Will you just shut up!?" Kate groaned. She turned to the cabbie, who was still standing there, looking uncertain and confused. Going against everything in her training, and not sure why, Kate gave him an address, only hoping she wasn't making a complete mistake.

"Shouldn't we wait for the police?" the cabbie questioned.

Kate dug her badge out of her pocket, thanking whatever higher power out there that she'd grabbed her badge out of habit before leaving her apartment. "I am the police," she asserted in a firm and authoritative voice. "Just take us there."

"What about the damage to my windshield?" he objected.

"I'll pay for that!" Castle shouted from the backseat. "How much?"

The cabbie thought for a moment before rattling off an exorbitant amount. Kate was about to call him on it when Castle silenced her by handing over double what the guy had asked for. "Just do as the nice lady cop says," he said.

"Yes sir!" the cabbie grinned, quickly flipping through the bills before hopping into the driver's seat.

Kate frowned, completely baffled, but then just gave a shrug, letting it all just roll off her shoulders. She was on vacation. If both men wanted to settle it without police involvement, then who was she to argue? She climbed into the back of the taxi, and glanced across at Rick Castle, if that was even his real name. It sounded fake. What kind of name was that, anyways? If she said it fast enough, it would almost sound like she was saying "Hey, asshole!" _Well, that fit_s, she supposed. She narrowed her eyes and stared back at him.

He was watching her with his arresting blue eyes, and she couldn't help but shiver. There was something in that gaze she wasn't used to seeing. From the moment they'd met, there had been something about his eyes that enthralled her.

Castle flashed her a grin, and a wink. "What's the matter, Beckett? Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"Yes," she replied with no small amount of bite. "Yes, you do. Stop staring, okay? It's creepy."

"Sorry," he assured her with that smooth voice of his. "Beautiful woman comes to my rescue… I couldn't help myself."

Kate scoffed, and rolled her eyes, not letting him see just how much his flirtatious banter was affecting her. She could already feel the blush warming her cheeks. She averted her gaze and stared out the window as the cabbie turned the key and started the ignition.

* * *

_***A/N: Sorry for the massive delay. I was on vacation, and then caught a nasty cold once I got back home. All Russian words and phrases aquired via GoogleTranslate... so my apologies if I've butchered your language.**_


	7. Chapter 6

**Private Eyes – Chapter 6**

Kate let out an audible sigh of relief when the elevator doors rattled open on the sixth floor. The semi-fancy wall sconces lit the corridor in a soft glow and the carpet beneath their feet was a faded red. This place always gave off a hotel-vibe, which, in retrospect, was probably why she'd rarely come over. It just never felt very lived-in, almost like the tenants were only barely there, only requiring a place to eat and sleep when they weren't busy working or being someplace else. Kate could relate with a workaholic, but at least when she went home, she actually went home to a _home_.

She had second guessed herself numerous times on the ride over, and had almost completely changed her mind when the cabbie pulled up to the address she'd given him, but one look at Castle, grimacing and clutching his side, she knew they had no choice, especially when he was dead set against going to a hospital. Castle had paid the cabbie, giving the man a generous amount of cash without seeking any change in return. Her bafflement at his behavior was temporary hampered when he immediately pushed the door open and clambered out of the taxi.

"Nice," he mumbled into her ear. His head had lolled down so that his nose was nuzzling her hair. "You smell like cherries."

Kate gritted her teeth and pulled them to a halt, nudging him away from her with her elbow. She flicked her gaze up to him, and their eyes locked for a split second. She tried to ignore the way her breath hitched up, and her heartbeat quickened. This guy was bad news… really bad news. She didn't need to get mixed up with him. _But_, part of her argued, _you're already mixed up with him. And… he is rather charming_.

"Shove it," she snapped, stifling down the rising feelings within. "You're charm isn't going to work on me."

"Oh," he chuckled, smirking mischievously. "So you admit that I'm charming?"

"I wouldn't say that," Kate lied through her teeth, frowning as she tried her best to ignore the way the sparkle in his eyes made her stomach flutter with feelings long dormant.

"Please, stop deluding that pretty head of yours," Castle said. He gave a decisive bob of his head. "Cause if that kiss tells me anything, it's… you like me. Yep." He grinned down at her, and she found it hard to even deny to herself that he was kind of adorable like this. "You like me… _a lot_."

"Just… just be quiet," she asserted, knitting her eyebrows together and moving them two more doors down. Thankfully, Castle acquiesced to her instruction. Though, Kate couldn't be positive it wasn't simply because he was in pain and fatigued. But whatever the reason, she was grateful.

Standing before the apartment door, Kate found herself hesitating. Her previous doubts about coming here resurfaced and she began to rethink her initial decision. Nothing good could come from seeking help here. No. No. It was stupid. She should have just taken him to Lanie's if she was going to grant him his asinine pleas to avoid the hospitals. But before she could make any new decision on the matter, Castle was raising his free hand and knocking on the door.

Kate froze. She found herself praying for him to either be out or asleep. But as her luck was running this week, chances were he'd be in and wide-awake. And judging from the sounds of footsteps approaching, it appeared her assessment of her fortune was pretty darn accurate. A second later the door swung open to reveal the last person she'd ever envisioned seeing again.

"Kate?" his brow furrowed in confusion as his eyes took her in.

She offered a weak smile, inclining her head slightly as she adjusted the weight of Castle's arm over her shoulder. "Hey… Josh, I bet you weren't expecting to see me again so soon," she greeted, her attempt at humor falling flat.

XXX

Agent Turner stormed out of the interview room, slamming the door shut behind her. The battered men inside looked appropriately chastised. She couldn't believe that they'd let _him_ slip from their grasp, especially when they'd actually had a physical hold on him. But then again, Rick Castle was one of the best, and she, of all people, should know that.

Danberg was waiting for her by the double doors leading into the war room. He gripped a handle and held the door open for her as she marched inside. The buzz of activity was a surprising comfort. Turner closed her eyes, taking a moment to calm her breathing and heart rate back to the norm.

"How are we with Castle's TCD-74?" she asked.

Danberg shook his head, giving her an apologetic expression. "He must have removed the chip, because we aren't picking him up anymore."

Turner clenched her jaw as she let out a mild curse. She folded her arms under her breasts as her eyes absently surveyed the large monitors before her, each displaying various images from surveillance cameras all across New York City. It was quite literally the city that never sleeps. "What about his safe house?"  
"Clean," Danberg informed her, giving her a shrug of his shoulders. "I had the techs sweep it twice. Nothing. He's good."

She nodded. Yeah, he was good. She knew first hand just how _good_ he was. Raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, Turner suppressed a yawn. "Damn it. He's always been one step ahead of us. We need to change that."

"What about the woman?"

"What woman?" Turner questioned, furrowing her brow in confusion.

Danberg gestured towards a smaller screen off to the side of the main monitors. The display showed the New York DMV data on a 'Katherine Houghton Beckett', along with some biographical information: Born and raised in New York, both parents lawyers, mother died when she was 19—ruled a result of random gang violence. She was currently a homicide detective in the NYPD, operating out of the 12th Precinct. Her credentials were quite impressive.

One of the techs was currently running a check on her. The young man glanced over his shoulder when he noticed the senior agents approaching his station.

"What have you got so far?" Turner asked, her eyes scanning over the data as it came in.

"Top of her class at the Academy, youngest woman to become a detective, highly decorated," the tech rattled off the information. "She was shot last May during the funeral for her fallen captain. And according to attendance records, she was at the recent Law Enforcement Officers Conference in D.C."

"Great, so she's little miss super cop," Turner grumbled, rolling her eyes and looking back at Danberg. "What exactly does she have to do with Castle?"

"Right now the connection is minimal," he admitted. "But enough to warrant the background search." He paused for effect as the computer tech pulled up the video footage of Castle waiting in the check-in queue at Reagan National Airport. "As you can see, they _bumped_ into one another."

Turner watched as on screen Castle 'bumped' into Katherine Beckett. A smile slowly spread across her face. Finally, they had a lead, even if it was, as Danberg put it, minimal. She glanced back over at the DMV photo of the detective, furrowing her brow in an odd mixture of vexation and bewilderment. There was something about the woman's face. "I think I've seen her before."

Danberg raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Where?"

Turner tapped her foot as she racked her brain. She narrowed her eyes as she concentrated on the image within her memories of the brunette. Ever so slowly, a memory came into focus. "The restaurant," she gasped, turning to Danberg. She placed a hand on his shoulder for support. "It was brief, but I could have sworn I saw her at that restaurant we'd tracked Castle to."

"It could just be a coincidence," Danberg offered, playing devil's advocate. It was one of the reasons she valued him as a partner. He had an exceptional mind, and knew how to use it when they needed to analyze a situation as quickly as possible. And he was always at the ready to provide a counter argument to any assertion she made. It helped keep her on her toes, and really think about things from more than one perspective.

Turner shook her head and pursed her lips as she stared hard at the image of the detective. The woman was beautiful, no denying that. There was a fierceness in the woman's eyes, a raw intelligence and determination that if put to use and properly honed, would make the detective a valuable asset. She could see why Castle would be drawn to such a woman. But for what purpose? Rick Castle never did anything without a reason.

"I don't believe in coincidences, not when Rick Castle is involved," she asserted.

Danberg nodded in agreement. "I'll get a team on her apartment ASAP," he said, reaching inside his jacket for his cell phone as he stepped back.

Turner inclined her head, brushing her dark hair back from her face as she refocused her attention to the computer tech. The young man looked up at her with anticipation, eager and willing to please. She smirked. "Get me everything we have on Katherine Beckett."

"Yes, ma'am."

XXX

Kate stood off to the side, standing somewhat awkwardly next to the breakfast bar in the kitchenette as she watched her ex-boyfriend wrap some gauze around Castle's torso. It was all so surreal. She'd been fending off his unwanted advances the other day, and now here she was, showing up at his place in the middle of the night with a stranger slumped against her for support. And that stranger… he was something else, that's for sure. He just had a habit of showing up at the most inopportune times. And in the most unexpected ways. Yet, there was something about him that she felt drawn to. Rick Castle stirred feelings within her with just a look, and that… that unnerved her. Not even Josh had had that power. No man had.

The two men were in the small living room, not far from her. Castle was perched on the edge of the plush arm of a beige armchair, his jacket and shirt off, deposited in the seat. Josh stood before him, slowly unraveling a roll of gauze. The doctor had been startled, to say the least, at their sudden appearance. Though, thankfully, he'd yet to question her, seeing to Castle's injuries first. Kate couldn't take her eyes off them… or more precisely _him_. Castle had just casually taken his jacket and shirt off, before resting back against the arm of the chair. He wasn't ripped like Josh was, but he was fit… very fit, with a defined chest and strong arms. He obviously knew how to take care of himself without going overboard.

"You really should go to a hospital," Josh said as he continued working on folding the gauze around Castle's bruised side. "Get an x-ray done. There is only so much I can tell from a surface examination."

"Nah," Castle shook his head, almost unconcerned. "Nothing's broken, just some bruising. I'd know if it was something worse, trust me." He let out a chuckle as if he was remembering past injuries. Kate frowned, not for the first time wondering _who_ exactly this man was.

"If you say so," Josh gave a dubious shrug as he finished securing the gauze.

Castle arched his neck and gazed down at the doctor's handiwork. "Not bad," he hummed in approval, running his fingers along the seam of the gauze. He stretched and nodded. "Not bad at all." He stuck his hand out. "Thanks, Doc."

Josh looked at him for a second, before he hesitantly took Castle's hand, and exchanged a firm handshake with the man. Castle smirked, and his eyes flicked up to lock with Kate's momentarily, before they returned to the doctor. Kate had trouble pulling her gaze from his arresting blue eyes. She was so confused. Part of her was incredibly annoyed and irritated by the man, while the other half just yearned for him in a way that was so primal and raw that it frightened her.

"Mind if I use your bathroom?" Castle asked, tugging his shirt back on, quickly working the buttons. When Josh just nodded, gesturing towards the direction of the bathroom. "Thanks," he slapped Josh's back in gratitude, grabbed his jacket, and disappeared down the hallway.

XXX

Castle walked nonchalantly down the hallway, eyes constantly roaming, taking it all in. He really didn't need to use the bathroom, but he did need some privacy. And besides, he felt that those two needed to clear the air. The tension in that room had been so thick, he wasn't even sure a knife could have cut through it.

Kate hadn't said anything, but he had the distinct impression that Dr. Josh Davidson was her motorcycle riding ex-boyfriend. He'd seen a bike helmet by the front door, and the leather jacket tossed across the back of the couch was clearly worn for riding a motorcycle. The ex-boyfriend part he could simply tell from the amount of tension that radiated between the other two. The break-up had to have been fairly recent, or within the past month or two. Judging by the man's curt greeting alone, Josh was clearly still bitter over it.

Locating the bathroom with ease, Castle slipped inside and pulled the door half-closed behind him. Something besides his encounter with Turner's goons at his safe house had happened. It had been barely audible—he was positive neither Kate or Josh had noticed—yet he'd still managed to hear the TCD-74, hidden within his jacket pocket, buzzing for the past five minutes. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled the device out. Flipping it open, he glanced at the text message that was waiting for him. His brow creased with mild concern, as he punched in the appropriate commands to hack into the CCTV network nearby Beckett's apartment.

The screen faded to black as the device made the appropriate connections. The image blinked to life, and Castle narrowed his eyes, staring at the corner of Varick and Franklin in Tribeca. Castle let out a mild curse as he spotted two unmarked vehicles. To the average passerby, they looked completely ordinary, but with his trained eye, Castle could detect the invisible hand of Agent Turner at work.

"What are you up to, Sophia?" he questioned softly, mumbling to himself. His thumbs moved over the keyboard, and the screen blinked, switching to a different closed-circuit camera. He was definitely going to have to think up a plan to get them back inside Beckett's apartment.

XXX

Silence had descended upon them after Castle's departure for the bathroom. The tension in the room, easily ignored while the other man was present, seemed to skyrocket to new heights. The two of them simply stood there, looking at one another, Josh slowly rolling up the remaining gauze. Unable to stand the scrutiny in his eyes, Kate bit her lower lip, and averted her gaze.

He glanced across at her with a puzzled expression. "Kate?"

"Josh," she acknowledged with a bob of her head, anxiously brushing a loose strand of hair back behind an ear.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" he demanded tersely as he joined her in the kitchenette, putting the remaining gauze away in a cabinet.

Kate shook her head, and pinched the bridge of her nose, not wanting to have this conversation, especially when she still didn't even know the answer to that question herself. All she offered was a shrug.

"Okay," Josh said, dropping down onto the barstool beside her. He ruffled his fingers through his hair and let out an exasperated breath. "Do you even know who this guy is?" he asked. It was a valid question, yet Josh was unable to conceal a hint of jealousy.

She gave him a pointed look, not pleased with his tone. "I don't know if that is even any of your business, Josh."

"Really? That's what you're going with?" he shook his head in disbelief, raising his voice in irritation. "Jesus, Kate. You show up at my door in the middle of the night with some guy who's obviously been in a fight, asking if I could patch him up. I think it's very much my business at this point."

Kate took a deep breath, and raked her fingers through her hair as she turned to face him. He was right. At the very least, he deserved some answers. Problem was, she didn't know what to tell him. But before she could formulate any response, Josh was opening his mouth again.

"Because, if he's some new boyfriend, who got knocked around at some club, then honestly, Kate, I would have preferred that you'd taken him to Lanie to get patched up."

"He's not my boyfriend!" she snapped, eyes narrowed, annoyed at his assumption.

Josh scoffed, disbelieving.

"Okay, fine!" she huffed in frustration. "It was one date. _We_ went on one date! One date! But you could hardly call it a date. We had some wine, talked a little, and then he was gone before we could even order dinner. That was it." Kate growled and jabbed him in the chest with her finger, before pivoting away from him and stomping out of the kitchenette. She turned back to face him. "Next thing I know, he's jumping off of some building and landing on top of a taxi."

"Jesus, Kate…," Josh gasped, shifting his weight to get a better angle as he gazed out at her from his place at the breakfast bar while she paced back and forth in the living room. "What in the hell are you mixed up in?"

"Honestly, Josh, I don't know," she admitted, dropping down into the armchair, feeling drain, both emotionally and physically. She slumped back against the cushions. It was all just so frustrating.

Kate sucked in a heavy breath, and began rattling off all the details of the previous couple of days, about Gates forcing her to take a week off, Lanie setting up the blind date, and the date itself. She stubbornly refused to let the frustrated tears forming in her eyes out. She would _not_ cry in front of Josh. All she had wanted was a quiet night out at the movies, yet here she was, spilling her guts to her ex-boyfriend, a man she'd never intended on seeing again. "And Josh, I'm sorry for coming here, but I didn't know what else to do, and he… he said no hospitals."

"Okay, okay," Josh relented with a sigh, scooting off the barstool and coming over to kneel before her. He placed a hand on her knee in a sign of comfort, and Kate tried really hard not to read too much into it. She hoped Josh didn't think by her uncharacteristic venting that she'd now be willing to give them another chance. Because she was nowhere near inclined to do so. She hadn't been lying when she'd told Josh they were done. "Look, Kate, I was thinking…"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off the moment Castle appeared. "Hey, we should…," he stopped, eyes lingering on the scene before him. One eyebrow quirked up and he gestured with his thumb, pointing back the way he came. "Am I interrupting something? Cause, if I am, I can give you two some—"

"No, no, you're not interrupting anything," Kate asserted, brushing Josh's hand off her knee and pushing herself up out of the armchair. Inwardly, Kate let out a sigh of relief at the man's sudden reappearance, which saved her from having to deal with another one of Josh's attempts to get them back together. Josh frowned, perturbed by the interruption, looking as if he wanted to modify her statement from the negative to the positive. He stood up as she did, turning with her as she stepped around him in an attempt to create some distant.

"Good," Castle clapped his hands, making a show of looking at his watch. "Because, Kate, we gotta go." He reached her in no time and had his hand on her arm, gently tugging her towards the door.

"What?" she furrowed her brow in confusion, though also slightly overwhelmed by the way her body tingled with excitement by his touch.

His fingers squeezed around her bicep and he offered a charming smile. "Hey, hey… it's okay," he assured her as he reached for the handle. He opened the door and glanced back at an utterly stupefied Josh Davidson. "Thanks again, Doc," he hollered back. "Better luck next time, eh?" He laughed and before Kate could say or do anything, Castle was directing her out the door and into the hallway.


	8. Chapter 7

**Private Eyes – Chapter 7**

He loosened his grip around her bicep when they reached the lobby, casually slipping his arm around her waist, one hand landing comfortably on her hip. He tugged her up close against his side as if they were a happy couple about to go out to enjoy the city's vibrant nightlife. The sudden intimate contact left Kate breathless, and she found herself focusing more on fighting off all those unwanted feelings that were now flaring up throughout her entire body than on what had just happened up in Josh's apartment and on where he was leading her. She was still somewhat shellshock over everything that had happened during the previous two hours, not to mention the last couple of days. Esposito had once called her a control freak. And he was right. She was a control freak. Kate did not like it when she was not in control.

And right now, she wasn't in control. She had no power to influence events. It was like her free will had vanished in a puff of smoke, lost to some oblivious abyss, and, for now at least, unable to return. Her body was betraying her, confusing her senses with flutters and tingles that were not entirely unwelcomed, but unexpected nonetheless; making her ease into Castle's hold, forcing a contented sigh from her lips as she tilted her head to rest it against his broad shoulder, unintentionally playing along with the act he was putting on display for the outside world. She couldn't help but breathe him in, his subtle masculine scent, earthy and masculine, accompanied by something else that was uniquely him.

It was intoxicating.

The fact that she was already so enthralled by just his presence alone was enough to terrify her beyond belief. This was not her. She did not get all entranced and doe-eyed. Kate Beckett did not fawn over men. It was true that she hadn't been herself since the shooting. Lost, wandering in a void, unable to find the broken pieces of herself. Yet, for some inexplicable reason beyond her knowledge and despite his somewhat arrogant behavior, she still sensed restorative properties from his presence. He was the very definition of a contradiction. He both irritated and excited her. She either wanted to shoot him or fuck him. And at this point, Kate really didn't know which side was winning.

They exited the building without any trouble, the doorman tipping his hat to them as he held the door open. Castle's arm tightened around her, as if he could sense her confusion and mild panic. He tilted his head, nuzzling his nose against her hair as he whispered into her ear, his breath all hot and moist, almost sensual. It made her shiver with a primal want that had eluded her most of her adult life. It wasn't until the cold chill of the evening air hit her face that Kate regained her balance and was able to find her voice.

"What… what's going on?" she stammered out.

"Shh… you're doing great," he crooned softly. "A natural." His fingers curled into her hip, securing his hold on her. She felt both safe and smothered at the same time. The contradicting sensations bewildered her.

Castle maneuvered them down the sidewalk, away from Josh's apartment building. Not that many people were out this late at night, but enough that their presence wasn't all together unusual. The night was cool, and steam wafted up through the vents in the streets, giving the streetlights a strange glow. He walked them down the corner and three more city blocks before he loosened his grip around her waist, though he didn't release her. Castle flashed her a reassuring smile, and dug his phone out of his jacket pocket with his fresh hand. Kate arched her neck and peered over as he flipped it open and began scrolling through a menu. The onscreen interface looked like nothing Kate had seen before.

He noticed her looking, and quickly snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into his jacket pocket.

"Castle…," she ground out, furrowing her brow and shaking her head slightly, still feeling somewhat brain fogged by all the sensations his proximity unwelcomingly generated within her body. "You can't… can't just abduct a NYPD detective and expect her not to ask questions."

"_Abduct_?" he echoed, grousing in feigned offense. "Please… if this was me abducting you, I'd seriously reconsider your profession. And seeing as you're one of the best cops in the city, I would, if I were you, amend that statement."

Kate huffed and rolled her eyes. Yet, however reluctantly, she had to concede he had a point. She'd been uncharacteristically submissive with him thus far, letting him take charge and lead the way with nary a protest from her, which was slightly horrifying, because that was not how she operated. She was always the first one through the door. She was used to taking the lead in things, professionally and personally, especially in relationships.

_Whoa, stop right there!_ her inner voice interrupted her train of thought. _Why are you thinking of this as a relationship? You hardly know the guy. You went on one 'date' and kissed… once! Yes. It was mind-blowingly great, but it was just ONE kiss. It is far too early to start thinking of him as your—_

"Hey, hey… it's okay," Castle's voice snapped her out of her inner monologue, astutely perceiving her inner turmoil. His hand ran gently up and down her back. "Everything is going to be okay." He smiled at her, exuding his easy charm, cool and collected. She heaved in a quick breath and flicked her eyes up to his. "Trust me?"

"_Trust you?_" she scoffed, hardly believing his statement. "I barely know you."

He offered a shrug in agreement, glancing back at her with a teasing smirk and a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "A technicality that can be rectified later, sweet cheeks." He winked for added effect. "But right now… we need to go." Castle turned away from her, digging his phone out of his pocket again.

Something in her snapped. Whether it was her irritation with the situation finally boiling over the tipping point or whether it was the oh so casual way he'd tossed out that last remark being the final straw, was up for debate. She was already so overwhelmed with everything else that it wasn't really surprising that something so innocuous would send her over the edge. _Chauvinist pig!_ She found her absent courage of the last few hours returned, fierce and strong, almost as if it had never left her.

"_Sweat cheeks?_" she growled under her breath, gritting her teeth as she stomped after him. "Listen, buster! The name is Kate. Kate Beckett. I'm not some tousled up harlot you picked up off the street, needing to pay for the company because you're so pathetic you can't get laid without cash!"

She paused, making certain she had his complete attention, though his arresting blue eyes almost derailed her… _almost_. "I'm a Homicide Detective in the New York Police Department. I've gone toe-to-toe with some of the lowest forms of humanity this world's ever pulled out of the dregs, and have emerged victorious. You think you're some pretty hot stuff, don't you? Well, I'm betting I can take you down with one hand tied behind my back!" Kate flushed at the end of her little tirade, chest heaving with righteous indignation. She breathed heavily, eyes wide, wondering where all that came from.

"Wow!" he arched an eyebrow and looked back at her with an impressed expression. "You're quite the spitfire, aren't you? I like."

"Just… no nicknames… _please_," she stressed, following behind him as he returned his attention to his phone. "I hate nicknames."

Castle gave her a dubious look, as if he knew better, but nodded just the same. "Understood, received and catalogued in storage," he said, tapping his temple.

"Don't patronize me," she huffed, annoyed at his blasé attitude.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he assured her, his eyes twinkling with delight. He was enjoying himself far too much, in her opinion. "Why all the sudden hostility?"

"You're kidding me, right?" she asked, staring at him with a deadpan expression, folding her arms across her chest.

"Hey," he shrugged, flashing her an easy smile. "Didn't I just save you from some embarrassment back there. Looks to me like the good doctor doesn't handle rejection well." He sighed. "Then again, his type usually don't. No doubt he probably thinks he is God's gift to women."

"And you don't?"

Castle smirked and let out a soft self-deprecating laugh. "I'm arrogant, I'll grant you that. But I'm not _that_ arrogant."

She rolled her eyes at that, finding that statement highly suspect. He merely gave her a shrug, and flipped his phone open again. Kate watched him with interest, curious as to what he was up to. Though, at the same time, it briefly crossed her mind that this would be the perfect opportunity to escape from this craziness, but she didn't. She just stood there, watching him. What did she have to look forward to if she'd left? Nothing, really. Just the boring day-to-day routine that had become her life.

Castle kept pressing down on a single button near the right top corner of the device, his eyes occasionally glancing up in-between each action. She was vaguely aware that they'd turned a corner and were now walking down a less crowded street, passing by a line of parked cars. He kept moving the phone-like device around, as if he was searching various directions for something. And then, just ahead of them, the headlights on a black Ford Taurus flashed, and the _beep-beep_ signifying that the car had been remotely unlocked sounded.

"Ah!" Castle cheered, turning toward her with a grin. "We've got a ride."

XXX

Sophia Turner suppressed a yawn as she blinked her eyes and picked up another printout for review. Ever since they'd connected Castle to the NYPD Detective, she'd been reviewing everything they had on the woman. _Everything_. The table was covered in a scattering layers of printouts, classified reports, IRS files, and other such documents, all pertaining to the thirty-three year old Katherine Beckett, daughter of Johanna and James Beckett. Turner didn't know what to think of the woman. She'd been through so much, yet had still managed to be exceedingly successful in a traditional male occupation. For that reason alone, she admired the woman. In many ways, Kate Beckett reminded Turner of a younger version of herself. She could easily see what had attracted the attention of Rick Castle.

She spotted Agent Danberg approaching before he even reached for the door handle. The conference room was surrounded, on all sides, by glass walls, allowing her to keep watch over the rest of the command center while she did some of her own research.

Danberg opened the door and stepped in, giving her a pointed look. "You've been awake for nearly 72 hours. You should get some sleep."

"I'm fine," she mumbled, ignoring his entreaties, once again having to suppress a yawn. Damn. She hated showing any weakness, especially in front of those she worked with.

"You can't survive on coffee and bagels," Danberg asserted with a stern expression, though she noted he was kind enough not to mention her internal battle with yawning. "Or the N-V-A tablets."

"I only took one," she protested, grimacing. She hadn't known he was aware she'd taken one of the energy boosting pills Langley had developed for its field operatives. She leaned back and closed her eyes, scrubbing her hands down her face, trying to stay alert.

Danberg casually sat on the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his chest, and gave her a disapproving frown. "You're only supposed to take those when you're in the field."

"We are in a bit of a crisis here," Turner asserted, close to snapping, proving just how in need of some proper rest she really was. She sighed, and brushed her dark hair back from her face. "Just… can you let it slide?"

"Okay," he relented, but held up a finger in warning. "But just this once." She nodded. Danberg was a good partner. She knew he was only looking after her best interests. "Trust me. Those pills are bad business if taken in excess. I knew a guy who swallowed three over the course of one week, and last I heard, he died of liver failure."

"Alright," Turner sighed in surrender, throwing up her hands, and standing. "I give up. I'll get some sleep." She grabbed her jacket, and gathered her things. "You should get some, too."

"I was just going to," Danberg answered, gesturing with his thumb towards the double doors on the other side of the command center that led to the small sleeping quarters. "I just wanted to check on you first."

"Thanks, Martin, that's sweet," she replied, genuinely touched by his concern. If things were different, she might have considered taking Danberg as a lover. He was good-looking, and obviously keen to see that his partner's needs were met. But, alas, she'd gone down that path before with a previous partner, and things had not turned out so well. So it was probably for the best that they kept their relationship strictly professional.

She finished gathering her things, and prepared to leave, but stopped at the door. "You'll have me notified if anything new comes up? I don't want to sleep through anything."

"We've got agents watching her place. If they see anything, I've informed Agent Jones to wake us… but only if necessary."  
"Alright," she inclined her head, accepting his judgment. "Then, I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning," Danberg agreed.

Turner strode out of the conference room, and marched down the small ramp towards the double doors that led to the hallway and the sleeping quarters. She was tempted to just crash on the couch in the office to the right, but she felt like some privacy. And besides, she had some confidential calls to make before going to bed.

XXX

Okay. Something was wrong with her. Seriously wrong. The Kate Beckett she knew did not just hop into a car—probably stolen—in the middle of the night with a complete stranger. Then again, Rick Castle was unlike any person she'd ever met. And it wasn't even like he had forced her to follow him or anything. In fact, once they were far enough away from Josh's apartment building, he had released his hold on her, like there had actually been some unspoken agreement that she would freely choose to follow him.

And she had. She just went right along with him, allowing him to lead and take her away. At any point during their walk, she could have stopped him. But she hadn't.

There was something about him that made her feel relaxed, willing to follow, curious and intrigued… and aroused. Yeah. She couldn't forget that last one. He stimulated her mind and body, his mere presence enough to entice her. And that terrified Kate. No person had ever had that effect on her. But he offered something that she'd sorely needed. A distraction.

Rick Castle was the greatest distraction the universe could have ever sent her. She was in need of an adventure, one that did not revolve around her own miserable little world, and Castle offered just that, a glimpse into another world, one that looked exciting and daring. Kate had made a decision earlier that week, tired with the repetitive and boring daily routine her life had become, that she would work at embracing new and different experiences.

She had known him for only a handful of hours, but already Kate could tell. Castle… oh boy, was he an experience, one she wasn't going to let pass her by. She'd been lost, adrift in the vast ocean that was life. And in a matter of hours, and a few chance encounters, Castle had manage to begin the process of pulling her out of that hole and back into the world of the living.

So, when he had jogged around the car and got behind the wheel, Kate had just climbed into the passenger seat without really thinking it through, unable to resist the irresistible allure that was Rick Castle, man of mystery.

It was odd not being the one to drive. Kate always was the one to drive. She wasn't above admitting it made her feel a little anxious not being behind the wheel. There was still the question of where they were going. Not to mention, who he really was. Castle was silent for the most part, occasionally glancing over at her, but mainly keeping his eyes on the road. It didn't take Kate long to realize they were headed into Tribeca. When they passed a familiar bakery not far from her apartment, she turned towards Castle with a quizzical expression.

"Are you taking me home?"

Castle glanced at her for a moment. "Sort of."

"_Sort of?_" Kate shot him an incredulous look. "What the hell does that mean?" She shifted her position in the car seat so she could fix him with a more heated glare, one she usually reserved for suspects she was interrogating. "Castle!?"

"Damn, that's hot," he grinned. "You know, no one has ever said my name with such…"

"Disdain?" she hissed out with every bit the emotion behind that word.

"I was going to say _passion_," Castle hummed. He looked over at her and chuckled, no doubt so very pleased with himself for getting a rise out of her. He slowed the car and stopped when they came to a red light. Turning slightly in his seat, Castle looked at her with a wiry smile. "Sorry. I probably should have done that whole 'blue or red pill' speech before you got into the car."

Kate frowned. "I don't follow?"

"You know… like _The Matrix_, you take one, you remain blissfully ignorant while with the other you learn the truth of the world around you." The light turned green, and Castle turned his attention back to the road, driving the car through the intersection.

"Oh no, you misunderstood, I got the movie reference, I'm just not sure how it applies," Kate explained, gracing him with a tiny quirk of her lips.

Castle steered the car with a relaxed manner, changing lanes as they approached the next intersection. Kate recognized the area. They were close to her apartment, three blocks away. "Can I ask you a question, Kate?" There was a curious quality to his voice that she found intriguing.

"Sure," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, surrendering to the reality that he would probably never answer her questions. And, for some insane reason, that really didn't bother her. It was like she was some blind lemming when it came to this man.

"Why'd you get in the car?"

"What?"

"You didn't have to come with me, but you did," he said. "I wanna know… why?"

"I… I don't know," she answered honestly. Kate shook her head, and brushed back some loose strands of hair behind her right ear. "I can't really explain it. I have no idea who you are, or what you are up to, but… I couldn't help myself."

He smiled. It seemed genuine and was touched with a bit of understanding. "I know the feeling," he said, gazing at her with a look of longing in his eyes.

Kate sucked in a deep breath, stubbornly ignoring the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach. He turned his attention back to the street. They were rapidly approaching her block, but before he reached Franklin, he turned onto North Moore. When she drove her department issued Charger home, Kate would occasionally turn onto North Moore to search for some parking. It wasn't always a safe bet, but she usually was able to find at least one open spot. Kate eyed Castle with interest. Obviously he wasn't just going to drop her off.

Luck was clearly on his side tonight. He'd survived a jump from the roof of a decent size building onto the hood of a taxi with just some bruised ribs and having the wind knocked out of him. And now, after acquiring a car through somewhat dubious means, he now found a parking spot. Castle grinned and with a few turns and twists of the wheel managed to perform probably the most perfect parallel parking job she'd ever witnessed. Kate turned to him with an amazed expression, impressed.

Castle shrugged nonchalantly. "I've gotten bigger into tighter fits."

Her mouth involuntarily dropped as she gazed at him in astonishment at his almost brazen innuendo. Subtle, he was not. He winked at her, and then quickly opened the door and got out of the car. Kate just sat there, feeling her insides spark and burst with a sudden onslaught of erotic images, all starring a certain ruggedly handsome man.

"You coming, Kate?" he hollered.

She nearly screamed, _Oh please, yes!_, but managed to control herself long enough to simply nod in reply. She then took a moment to calm herself, before following his lead, unbuckling her seatbelt, and climbing out of the car to join him on the sidewalk. Castle gazed at her with a knowing look, a smirk gracing his oh so kissable lips. The smug bastard knew exactly what he'd just done to her.

Just for that, Kate let out a huff and began marching down the block in the direction of her apartment. But before she could get very far, Castle was grabbing her bicep and pulling her back, pressing her up against the building wall in a manner only a lover would. It was so fast and sudden, Kate was left stunned and breathless, and his close proximity was doing nothing for her ability to focus on anything but him and the warmth his body radiated.

"You seem tense, Kate," he murmured, his mouth so close to hers. Her eyelids fluttered, her mind bombarded with memories of that wonderfully exquisite kiss they'd shared the other night. "You need to relax."

His fingers curled around her arm, while his left hand took a secure hold of her side, keeping her in place. He was strong. A lot stronger than she'd initially thought. She might have to rethink her earlier declaration about being able to take him with one hand tied behind her back. He grinned at her discomfort, and nudged a knee between her legs, moving closer, invading her personal space. She shivered, swallowing hard, trying her best to suppress the rising tide of arousal that was coursing through her body. Her gaze flicked back and forth from his lips to his startling blue eyes. Was he going to kiss her again? If so, there was a large part of her that desperately wanted it, wanted him. But it all seemed to be moving too fast.

"Cas—?"

He clamped a hand over her mouth, shushing her. "Quiet. Just play along," he whispered, shifting to nuzzle his nose against her temple, his lips barely touching the shell of her ear. Kate bit her lower lip, and closed her eyes, summoning up all her willpower to stifle down all the feelings erupting inside her. Just the other day, Josh had her cornered like this, and she'd felt nothing. Now with Castle, who was still a complete stranger, she felt everything.

It was wrong. All wrong. She needed to fight this stupid attraction. The guy was a complete ass. He'd done nothing but frustrate her since the moment he'd abandoned her at that restaurant. And he seemed to enjoy messing around with her far too much. There was no way in hell she was going to allow herself to fall for him. She was still far too broken for that. There was a reason she'd ended things with Josh. She needed to fix herself before she could even consider diving into a any kind of relationship again.

But then Castle's fingers were tenderly stroking through her hair, and she remembered how, in just the short time that she'd known him, he made her feel alive. She blinked back to reality and gazed up at him with a mixture of deep yearning, vulnerability, want, and uncertainty.

Castle relaxed his grip on her hip and let his hand gently drop back to her shoulder, slowly easing away from her as he glanced left and right. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he retreated all the way. He let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked at her with his startling blue eyes, and suddenly it clicked. Yesterday, at dinner, she'd had this nagging feeling she'd seen him before. Now she knew.

"The airport, in Washington," she stammered out, still trying to recover. She heaved in a deep breath and pushed off from the wall. "It was you, wasn't it? We… we bumped into one another in the check-in queue."

"Yeah," he smiled easily. "That was me. I wasn't sure you remembered. You seemed… preoccupied at the time."

"I was, yes," she agreed with a bob of her head. "But," she pursed her lips and ducked her head bashfully. "It's not too difficult to remember eyes as stunning as yours."

"Really?" his posture relaxed and he quirked up an eyebrow. "Do tell."

Kate shook her head and chewed on her lower lip. Her brow furrowed as a sudden thought came to mind. "That bump… it wasn't an accident, was it?"

His smile disappeared and he sighed, nodding in confirmation. "No. It wasn't," he admitted. "Damn. Kate, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to drag you into this, but… I was running out of options and… and you were so distracted that it was too tempting not to resist."

"What did you do?" she questioned, the strength returning to her voice.

"Nothing bad, I promise!" he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Well, nothing _too _bad. But…" He trailed off.

"But… what?" she prompted.

Castle glanced both ways, and then gestured for her to follow him. She sighed, but relented, stepping in along side him as he briskly walked down the sidewalk towards the corner of North Moore and Varick. Ever since her shooting, Kate would have been more wary walking down a quiet street at night with only the streetlight to light the way. But with Castle by her side, her unease and anxiety was pleasantly absent. It was an odd feeling, to be free of such worries. She had almost grown accustomed to them since her return to the city from her nearly 3-month stay at her father's cabin.

"Look, Kate, I don't want you to freak out or anything," Castle said in a calm and reassuring manner that made her feel anything but. "But I slipped something into your bag."

"What!?"

"It's nothing bad, or harmful," he assured her. "At least in the right hands. But I couldn't be seen with it, and you were coming here to New York as well… so…"

"You used me as a mule," she finished. She dropped her hands to her side and huffed. "Great. Just great. Please. Oh please, please, please, don't tell me it was drugs."

"God no," Castle cringed at the suggestion. "No. Nothing of the sort." He shook his head. "Let's just say it's rather… sensitive to… national security."

"National security?" she flashed him a disbelieving look. "You're really giving me that?"

"For now, yes," he said, stopping as they reached the corner. He looked down Varick Street and narrowed his eyes. "Kate, things are complicated. And I didn't mean for it to happen, but they've identified you. And now that you've been seen with me, people are going to come after you. Bad people. They're going to act like good people, but they're not. Trust me. They are bad people. Bad. Got it?"

Kate swallowed hard as she averted her gaze, shaking her head in disbelief. "God," she groaned. "Internet dating, what was I thinking?"

"Exactly, Kate, what _were_ you thinking?" Castle teased, giving her a suggestive wink. "You're lucky. I mean, you could've met someone really crazy."

"Uh huh, yeah, really funny there, buddy," she said with a deadpan expression. "I bet you were the class clown back in grade school."

Castle adjusted his jacket and stretched his neck. "Okay, fine," he raised his hands in mock defeat. "Have it your way. But don't expect me to come to your rescue when they bury you away in some dark cell in the middle of nowhere."

"Are you even serious, or is this all some big joke to you?" she asked, really interested in his answer.

"Oh, I'm serious, Detective," he asserted, looking her straight in the eye. "Deadly serious."

"Alright," she relented with a shrug of her shoulders. "So if bad people are after me, why don't you be all gallant and walk me back to my apartment."

"That was my plan," Castle said with a grin, offering her his arm.

Kate eyed him warily, unsure if she should trust him. Yet there was something in his eyes that told her she could. She couldn't quite identify it, but there it was. He had a sincerity about him that others lacked, even when he was joking around. She gave a nod, and tentatively hooked her arm around his. They strolled down the sidewalk in companionable silence, and for just a moment, Kate allowed herself to forget the circumstances of their meeting and just enjoyed the company. As they got closer to the corner of Varick and Franklin, Kate couldn't help but notice two generic black SUVs parked on either side of the street.

She gripped Castle's arm tightly and pulled them to a stop. "Someone's watching my place!?" she hissed into the night.

"I know," Castle said, giving her a sad smile.

"How'd you—?"

"Later," he promised. "I really should start with an apology first." Tilting his head towards her, he glanced at Kate with a sincere look of remorse. "Sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" Kate asked, utterly bewildered by the entire exchange.

"This," Castle asserted as he wrapped an arm around her in what appeared to be an awkward half hug. If she weren't so occupied with confused thoughts earlier, she would have noticed him reaching inside his jacket and retrieving a dark object with a long cylindrical end. Before she could even register the cold steel pressed against her temple, Castle was gripping her tightly and marching her down towards the corner of Varick and Franklin at gunpoint.


	9. Chapter 8

**Private Eyes – Chapter 8**

The bullpen was relatively quiet at this hour. The day shift had already clocked out, only leaving the night crew, plus a few holdovers, still working on cases. Detective Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito were both firmly planted at their desks, reviewing witness statements for what seemed liked the hundredth time. Hubris. It was a bitch. They'd been all smug in their belief that they could handle things without Detective Beckett, but they were wrong. It wasn't the difficulty of the cases that had down them in; no… it was the workload. When Beckett was there, they were able to split it three-ways. But with her out on vacation, it was just the two of them.

"Why are we still here?" Ryan groaned, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, stifling a yawn.

"What's the matter, _honey milk_," teased Esposito with a smirk. "Does the bride-to-be have you on a tight leash?"

"At least I have someone waiting for me at home," came Ryan's retort; it had more bite to it than he'd intended. "Sorry, man, it's just that we've been working like crazy for the past couple of days, and I miss Jenny. And… after the long day we've had, I'm just plain exhausted."

"Me too, bro. Me too," Esposito agreed with a sigh. "However, it looks like we'll be pulling an all-nighter on this one." Ryan concurred with a nod as Esposito sat up, heaving himself out of his chair. "Why don't I get us some coffee?" He gave his partner a slap on the shoulder to show there were no hard feelings and walked past him, heading in the direction of the break room.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, that sounds nice. Thanks." He ruffled his fingers through his hair, inhaling and exhaling deeply, before he leaned forward, resting his elbows against the desktop, and glared back down at the witness statement he was currently reviewing. He growled in frustration and picked up his phone, texting Jenny to let her know he might be in late, if he even made it back at all. After sending the text, Ryan turned his attention back to the witness reports. He was just finally getting into a nice reading groove, when his computer beeped, alerting him to a priority email.

He turned towards the monitor and opened the email. It was a priority APB on a person of interest connected to a case involving national security. He sighed, losing some interest. Being in New York, they got a lot of these, most of which were handled by different divisions within the department, such as Major Crimes, or the Counterterrorism squad. But still, as a sworn officer, it was his duty to assist when possible.

Ryan downloaded the attachment, ready to print off the APB so he could then tack it up on the bulletin for the rest of the precinct to see. But as the attachment loaded, his eyes grew wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You want some sugar, right?" Esposito sauntered back from the break room, chuckling to himself, two mugs of steaming hot coffee in his hands. "Yo, bro? What's up?"

"Ah, man… you're not going to believe this, Espo," Ryan said, spinning his monitor around to show his partner. "The Feds just put out an APB for Beckett!"

XXX

From what he could see there were two unmarked black SUVs, maybe more. He didn't know. He couldn't tell from this vantage point. The windows were tinted, so no luck counting the number of agents Turner had sent. She had to be the one behind it. No one else would be as relentless or persistent as her. Though, on second thought, it could have been Danberg. Sending a group to watch a place was totally his style. But Turner would've been the one to give the order. Of that, there was no doubt.

"What… what are you doing?" Beckett gritted out. He tightened his hold around her, feeling her body go tense as he pulled her closer to his, as if he was using her as a human shield.

"Shh," he hushed, leaning his head against hers. He couldn't help but breathe in her intoxicating scent. Cherries, with a hint of vanilla and something else that was uniquely her. "Everything's going to be alright. Trust me." She arched her neck to glance back at him, looking at him like he was crazy. "I'm helping you out here."

"Helping me—? Really?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "Because it kinda looks like—" her eyes flicked over to the gun pressed against her temple, "you wanna kill me."

"Kate, I'm not trying to kill you," he couldn't stop the small quirk of his lips. As if. Besides, he could think of far better things he'd want to do to her.

"How do I know that?" she protested with a scoff.

"Because you're not dead."

He hated doing this, worried as to the mental distress it would cause. However, it was a necessary evil. They needed to get into her apartment building. If there were another way, he'd do it in a heartbeat. But there wasn't. And he didn't have the luxury of free time to sit around and come up with a better way to get inside the building. He had to retrieve Spyglass. Plus, this little subterfuge might work in Beckett's favor, likely trauma notwithstanding. If Turner and her CIA goons thought Beckett was just a hostage, an unwilling pawn in his schemes, then maybe… just maybe, she'd be safe.

As suspected, the moment they arrived at the corner of Varick and Franklin, the doors on the SUVs popped open, and several brawny agents burst out, guns already drawn. The agents fanned out around them, forming a semi-circle. Castle smirked, pulling Beckett more snuggly against his broad frame, enjoying the physical contact. Beneath her tough exterior, she was all woman.

"Evening, fellows," Castle inclined his head as if he were meeting a bunch of friends for a long overdo get-together. His eyes scanned the group, counting five men. "Five. That much, eh? Just to capture little old me? Wow… I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted."

"Don't move!"

"Freeze!"

"Drop the gun!"

The same series of phrases bounced around the circle of agents as they surrounded them. Castle held Beckett close, smirking into her hair as he watched. "Just be quiet and let me handle this, okay?" he murmured into her hair, only pulling back when he registered the slight nod of her head. He chuckled and glanced around at the agents, all dressed in cheap suits. "Gentlemen, don't you think all the theatrics are a bit much?"

"For you… no," the lead agent answered his question.

Castle shifted his gaze to the man, quickly assessing his opponent. The man was well built, with a square jaw and crisply cut blond hair, grim expression. His posture was straight, and he held himself with confidence. Despite that, it was almost too easy to spot the man's weaknesses. After extensive training and years in the field, what to look for had become second nature. He was already plotting out how best to incapacitate him. The others were about the same... all young and inexperienced, green. They were probably exceeding their orders, wanting to prove to Langley that they had initiative and the drive for the overseas special ops. Danberg had probably told them to just watch the place, call in for back up if he had made an appearance. They certainly had no idea what they had gotten themselves mixed up in. But he couldn't fault them for their determination. He still remembered that feeling, fresh off the farm, eager to please his superiors.

"Look, this can go one or two ways," he spoke calmly, directing his gaze towards Blondie. "One, you let me… and my guest pass unmolested. Or two, I take you all out."

The lead agent's stony façade faltered for a moment. Ah. So they had been briefed on who he was. Blondie knew enough to take his threat seriously. Castle shifted his hold on Beckett. Blondie's eyes snapped up, as if noticing the gun for the first time.

"Release her!" the young agent commanded, his voice firm, yet Castle could sense the trepidation hidden beneath the surface.

"Sorry, can't do that," he said cheekily. "You see, me and Detective Beckett are quite pressed for time. So, if you'd kindly move aside, we can go on about our business."

Blondie ignored him.

Castle sighed. "Seriously?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I really didn't want to have to do this, but I'm afraid you left me no choice."

In one swift move, he moved the gun away from Beckett's head and aimed at Blondie. He squeezed the trigger, and the retort echoed through the empty street. And before the impact could register in the agent's eyes, Castle already had the gun back up against Beckett's temple.

Blondie stood there for a moment, frozen in shock, before it finally hit him. He looked down and saw the wound on his thigh. It was probably the first time he'd ever been shot. Castle felt some pity for the young man. In this line of work, it probably wouldn't be the last time. Blondie collapsed on the sidewalk, the other young agents retreating back a pace of two. Castle suspected that none of them had ever seen someone move that fast. He locked eyes with the stunned agent.

"It's okay," he assured him. "It's going to be okay. I shot you through and through. No bone. Nowhere near the femoral artery. It's good. It's going to be all good. Okay? You're good?" The man nodded slightly. "Good." Castle turned his attention back to the four remaining agents. "Alright… everybody back!" he waved his gun around wildly, clutching Beckett's bicep as he pulled her with him. The agents, though stunned, kept to their training and moved with them, ignoring their fallen comrade. He wasn't in any danger after all.

"Hey! No!" he shouted, pouring on the crazy when he spotted one of the agents—a man with bright ginger hair—got too close. "Get back. Back… back, back!" Castle spun frenetically. "You," he pointed the gun at another agent. "Get down! DOWN!" He brought the gun back up to Beckett. "Or I will blow her head off!" She tensed in his grip as he repeated the threat. He flashed Beckett a wink, but he didn't know if she saw it. "No one follows us… or I kill myself, and then her. Either way, we're both dead, and you get nothing."

"I don't think they're buying your 'crazy' act, Castle," Beckett hissed out, clearly vexed with the situation.

"Too over the top?"

"A little."

They pirouetted in place, slowly making some headway towards their destination. But as he turned again, he spotted some movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinctively, he kicked his foot out and knocked the guy in the stomach, sending him careening to the ground. "What did I say? Huh?" he sighed in disbelief. "God… come on? What did I say!?"

When he turned, he spotted Ginger sprawled out on the sidewalk, curled in on himself. The three remaining agents stalked after them as Castle led Beckett towards the front door of the building. She was still stiff and tense, but he was pleased that she wasn't fighting him. Though, he did take note of the wide look of shock in her eyes.

"Release her!" one of the agents shouted.

"Afraid I can't do that," Castle said, smiling politely at the man. The guy on the left got a little too close for his liking, so with gun in hand, Castle quickly spun around, and rammed the agent in the face with his fist. The man fell down to the ground with a bloody nose. The two remaining agents exchanged worried glances. Castle stared back at them with a maniacal grin. "Who's next?"

They both made a move at once, but he was prepared for that. It was almost too predictable. He shoved Beckett towards one man. Caught off guard by his actions, she went careening into the agent, knocking him off balance, giving Castle the time he needed to take care of the other one. Spinning on his heels, he raised an arm, swiftly knocking the man's gun away, and hitting him in the solar plexus with a quick strike of his other hand. The man staggered back, off balance. It was then just an easy matter of sweeping the agent's feet out from under him. The man landed with a thud and groan on the sidewalk, shaking his head in a startled daze.

Castle quickly turned his attention to the last agent standing. The man was pushing Beckett out of the way as he raised his gun. Castle moved fast, flinging his gun towards his opponent with a quick jerk of his wrist. The cold steel collided with the man's face, and he toppled over, clutching his forehead. Castle calmly walked over and retrieved his gun, holstering it back inside his jacket before glancing down at the stunned agent.

"Do yourself a favor, and stay down," he said. He turned back to Beckett and smiled, grabbing her arm and tugging her towards the door. "Shall we?" Castle opened the outer door, and with his hand on her lower back, nudged her inside. He stepped in behind her as she stood there, watching him with wide eyes. He winked, and turned around to jam the door shut, hopefully delaying any attempt the recovering agents made at following them.

Castle turned to Beckett with a smile, placing his hands on her shoulders as he guided her through the inner door and into the small lobby of the apartment building. Once he'd secured the door, and released his hold on her, Beckett spun around, a defiant glint in her eye, and slapped him right across the face. He'd been expecting it, seen it coming, and could have stopped it, but he didn't. He deserved it.

"You asshole!" she spat out. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"Couldn't be helped," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, gently rubbing his hurt cheek. He'd underestimated her strength. He wouldn't do that again. "I did warn them."

She shook her head, as if he'd misunderstood. He frowned, knitting his eyebrows together and waited her out. "I don't mean those guys out there, Castle… I mean the gun! What was that?"

"Oh, the gun," he nodded, finally seeing her point. "Yeah, sorry about that." Castle ducked his head guiltily and averted his eyes. "I'm afraid it had to be done." He took a tentative step towards her. "If I've cause you any harm at all, I'm really sorry, Kate. That wasn't my intent. I was trying to protect you."

"_Protect me_!?" she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, not at all convinced. "_Please_… explain to me how holding a _gun_ to my head does that? And don't give me any of that national security BS. I think I deserve the truth."

Castle looked her dead in the eye and agreed. "You do. And I will. I promise. But… not here. Not now. We don't have much time." He gestured towards the elevator. "We should go."

Beckett stared at him for a long second before surrendering. "Fine," she sighed, though she didn't look like she believed him. He placed a hand on the small of her back as she led the way down the hall to the elevator.

A door creaked behind them, and Castle reacted on instinct. Sensing someone right behind him, he jabbed his elbow back, hitting whoever it was in the stomach and knocking them down to the floor. _Wow, that was fast_, he thought. He hadn't expected the agents to recover so quickly. But instead of one of the agents, Castle found an old man lying on the floor, clutching his stomach.

"Ernie!" Beckett cried out, pushing past him to kneel by the older man.

"Ernie?"

"Ernie Hostetler, the building manager," she elaborated, flicking her hair out of her face as she glared up at him, anger flaring in those beautiful eyes.

"Oh," Castle said, scrunching up his face in apology as he looked down at the man. "Sorry, I thought you were making a move. Sorry." He squinted as he looked the man over. "Yeah… you should probably put some ice on that."

"_Castle_," Beckett groaned.

"Well, he shouldn't have tried playing the hero," he asserted, again waving an apologetic hand down at the man. He bent down and grabbed her arm. "Come on, we should get going."

"We can't just leave him."

"He'll be fine. Tough old guy like that."

"I'm not leaving him like this, Castle," she growled, glaring up at him defiantly. "If you want me to come with you, then you have to let me help him."

Castle pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket, and flipped it open. He quickly checked his link with the CCTV security cameras outside. Most of the agents were still rolling on the ground. Glancing back at the old man, and then at Beckett, he felt his will weakening. Why… oh, why did she have to be so beautiful? He sighed, "Okay, fine."

XXX

She blinked her eyes, and squinted in the bright light. Groaning, she pushed herself up on her elbows and looked up to see Agent Danberg, looking ruffled and sleep weary, standing by the foot of her bunk. "What is it?" Turner asked, scrubbing a hand up and down her face, trying to wake up.

"The team watching the Beckett residence just called in," he said.

"Castle?"

"Yes," Danberg nodded. "And more. I wasn't planning on waking you, but I think you really should see this."

XXX

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kate asked, not for the first time, wanting to make sure that they didn't leave Mr. Hostetler down here with any serious injuries. He was a sweet old man, and he'd been kind to her ever since she moved in. She didn't want to just leave without making sure everything was all right with him.

"Yes, I'm fine, Kate," the old man said, taking her hand in his own and patting it reassuringly with the other. They had him reclining back in his armchair with an ice pack and some water. "Just got the wind knocked out of me." He chuckled. "My own fault really for sticking my nose into other people's business."

Kate opened her mouth to object, but he shushed her with a wave of his hand.

"Don't worry about me, Kate," he asserted. "You can go. Your young fellow seems in quite the hurry to leave. I hope I didn't interrupt anything." He wiggled his bushy eyebrows, a knowing glint in his eye as he winked.

"No," Kate answered, maybe a little bit more forcibly than was strictly required. "No…," she repeated, more softly. "You didn't. Just… if you need anything, please, call me."

He nodded, and leaned back into his chair with a sigh, adjusting the ice pack pressed against his upper abdomen. Kate squeezed in his knee, before standing back up and walked over to Castle, who was waiting by the front door. He'd been checking that phone-like device almost ever minute, and was tapping his foot impatiently.

"You done?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm done," she replied evenly.

"Good," he nodded. "Let's go." He opened the door for her and gestured for her to precede. She looked back one more time at Mr. Hostetler before ducking out into the hallway, but not before hearing Castle apologize once again. Despite her own irritation with the man, she couldn't help the small tug of her lips. He might have been impatient, but his apology was genuine.

They rode up the elevator in silence. Kate had to suppress a shiver when his hand gently pressed against the small of her back as they exited onto her floor. There was an undeniable attraction between them. However, she couldn't allow her body to betray her like that. She was angry with him, and rightly so. He'd held a gun to her head, and it was taking all her inner will to state together and not succumb to haunting memories it conjured up. So far, Kate believed she was managing quite well, better than she'd expected. She smirked. It had felt good to slap him.

Stopping at her door, she paused. What was she doing? Why did she trust this man? What was so sensitive to national security that he'd used her to smuggle it out of Washington, D.C.? A hundred different scenarios flooded through her mind. As a homicide detective it wasn't too difficult to imagine the worse. He was clearly a trained professional. And fast. She had been left speechless by how quickly he'd taken care of those agents. Was he really the good guy, like he claimed? Or was he something else? Something dangerous?

As if sensing her hesitation, Castle moved his hand up her back to grip her shoulder. It wasn't painful, but still firm nonetheless. He glanced both ways, before nodding his head. "Open the door."

"Only if you answer a question first," she asserted, swallowing down her apprehension and projecting an image of the strong and fierce detective.

"Okay, just one. Then will you open the door?"

She nodded.

"Then ask away."

"My apartment. What's in it that you need so desperately that you'll break the law, take me hostage, and assault Federal agents?"

"The truth?"

"By all means. Yeah, that would be nice."

He took a deep breath before answering. "The key to saving my daughter."


	10. Chapter 9

**Private Eyes – Chapter 9**

_"The key to saving my daughter."_

Wow, that was so not what she'd been expecting. Kate had been almost absolutely positive he was going to say something about the fate of the country—or the world—was at stake, but trying to save his _daughter_. No. That hadn't even been in the wheelhouse. It came completely out of left field, and she honestly didn't know how to respond. Once again, Rick Castle had left her speechless. She stared at him, mouth open, unable to find any words. He looked at her expectantly, glancing towards the door. She blinked, and released a breath, pulling her eyes away from him, and fumbled with her keys before opening the door and stepping across the threshold.

Castle followed, closing the door behind her. He turned the deadbolt, and slid the two security chains into place. His eyes slowly lifted to lock with hers, and a disquieting silence descended between them. Kate didn't know what to do or say. Part of her even wondered if he had even told her the truth. He hadn't exactly been honest with her before. She had no reason to trust him. But the anguished look on his face appeared to be genuine. If he was lying to her, and this was all some sort of elaborate act to gain her trust, then she'd have to give him a round of applause. He was damn convincing.

She stared at him, trying to get a read on the man. Kate still wasn't entirely sure who he was, even if Rick Castle was his real name—which she doubted—but from what little she'd seen, she believed him to be some sort of covert operative, highly skilled and effective at his job. And if she had to guess what agency he worked for, she'd have to say the CIA. But he didn't seem like the sort to betray his country. So whatever had happened to his daughter—if that really was the truth—it had been more than enough to make him turn rogue. It was rather worrisome. Kate knew and understood the dark and destructive path investigating something so deeply personal could lead. She'd been down the rabbit hole and barely survived. Despite only knowing Castle for less than a day, Kate didn't want to see that happen to him.

"Where's your roller?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Huh?" she knitted her eyebrows together, confused, her mind lost in its wanderings, still so muddled with other thoughts. Those agents on the street had been intent on subduing him and taking him into custody. But they obviously hadn't expected his level of resistance.

"Your suitcase from the D.C. trip," he expanded. "Where is it?"

Kate's eyes snapped up to his. It took her just a moment to remember why they were here, in her apartment, and what it was that he wanted. "In my bedroom," Kate supplied, indicating the direction with a wave of her hand and stepping back to get out of his way.

He nodded, and stalked across the living room. Without comment or pause, he pushed the door open and stepped inside her bedroom. Kate remained standing there, frozen to spot, before she realized that Castle had just entered her bedroom without her. God knows what else he might look at while he was unsupervised. Shaking her head, Kate quickened her pace, nudging the door further open as she entered her bedroom. She was just in time to see Castle slip his hand into the unzipped back pocket of her roller case and retrieve what looked liked a USB flash drive.

"So is that it?" she asked. "The key that will save your daughter?"

Castle glanced up at her. "In a manner of speaking, yes," he said, holding the flash drive up for her to see. It was thin and slate gray in color. "At least, that's the plan." He quickly pocketed it and stood up, staring at her with a look of uncertainty. She swallowed, a little uncomfortable with the way he was looking at her, his eyes warm and soothing. But at the same time, she felt a tingle dance down her spine and pool in her center, igniting thoughts and urges that shouldn't be there at present. It had been a long time since a man's gaze had stirred such feelings within her. And, she realized with surprise, she'd never felt this way when Josh had looked at her. Why was Castle so different?

"So…?" she hedged, ducking her head down and shifting anxiously, feeling uncharacteristically unsure of herself. Bringing her eyes back up, she gazed at him questioningly. "This is it?"

He pursed his lips and she watched as his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. His blue eyes broadcasted his own apprehension. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, and she held her breath, on edge as she waited for his answer, heart thumping profoundly beneath her ribs. She didn't know why, but a large part of her wanted him to say 'no'. Indecision stifled her. She'd never been faced with such a dilemma… with such a man. He was exciting, and being with him had brought a thrill into her life that had been severely lacking. He was a mystery, and she wanted to solve it. It helped too, that he wasn't that bad on the eyes.

"I wish it wasn't, but yeah… I guess it is," Castle said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, Kate… I… I wish things could be different. That we'd met at another time, another place… but I can only wish. It doesn't change reality. I'm sorry."

He closed the distance between them and brought up a hand to cup her cheek. Her breath hitched up as he moved closer, nudging their noses together. Kate closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, losing herself in his presence. She wondered if his heart was beating as wildly as hers.

"I… I wish for so many things," he mumbled, his breath warm against her lips, which quivered in anticipation. And then his mouth was covering hers, wondrously kissing her.

Kate responded in kind, bringing her hands up and running her fingers through his luxurious brown locks, kissing him back with a fervor that surprised even her. She smiled into his mouth as she heard a groan rumble up his throat. It was glorious, lighting up all the dark places within her, making her feel alive and… loved? Eventually, however, like all good things, it had to end.

Castle pulled back, releasing a sigh of regret at breaking their connection, and rested his forehead against hers, the pad of his thumb tenderly caressing her jawline. Kate's eyes fluttered open, and she returned his shimmering gaze, sharing air with him as they worked at calming their breaths.

"Extraordinary... so extraordinary," he crooned with a soft smile, caressing her face as he pressed one last chaste kiss to her lips before stepping back. "Goodbye, Kate. I… I wish you all the luck in the world."

He made a move to step around her, but Kate grabbed his arm and yanked him back, shaking her head. "No. You don't get to leave like that… not after that kiss."

"It was pretty good, wasn't it?" he asked smugly, wiggling his eyebrows.

Despite herself, Kate's lips quirked up in agreement. "Yes, it was."

"Dare I say… better than the first one?"

She nodded, ducking her head down as she bit her lower lip, tasting him. A blush spread across her cheeks. "I don't understand. I still don't know anything about you, yet… I feel drawn to you. I… I can't explain it."

"Then don't," he asserted, grabbing her hand in his and holding it to his chest. She swallowed, looking him in the eyes, trying not to dwell on their joined hands and how electrifyingly amazing it felt. "Just let yourself live in the moment." His eyes dropped down to her lips, and then he kissed her one more time, slow and languid, unhurried, yet at the same time instilled with a passion that simmered beneath the surface. She bit down on his lower lip as he pulled back, pleading with him to stay, but he wouldn't heed her request.

"I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this," he said, running his fingers through her hair and down the back of her head.

"What exactly is _this_?" Kate asked, raising her eyebrows curiously.

He stepped back and sighed, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's complicated, Kate."

"You promised you'd explain it," she reminded him, giving him a pointed look. The amorous mood was quickly fading, much to her chagrin, but she was owed some answers after everything that had happened.

"Yes, I did, and… I will, but…," he raked his fingers through his hair. "We're pressed for time here, Kate. They're not going to just sit by and do nothing."

"Who are _they_?" she demanded, frustrated at the lack of transparency, not blinking as she stared him down. There was a reason she was one of the city's best interrogators. She was relying on those skills now, trying to pry the truth from her reluctant companion. "Come on, Castle, you've got to give me something here. You don't expect me to just blindly follow you on faith alone… do you?" She paused, gauging his reaction. "Oh my God… you do!"

"Look, Kate, I know you don't trust me, but you have to believe what I'm telling you is the truth," he said, voice low and firm, leaving no room for any arguments. He was right. Despite the intense attraction between them, she didn't fully trust him. Not yet. At least, not until he explained everything. "Those bad people I told you about; They threatened to kill my daughter if she didn't do what they wanted. She's only 17, too young… too young to face the horrors that they'd bring to bare if she refused to cooperate. And those same people, they're hunting me… and now you."

"Me?"

"It was no coincidence those agents were waiting outside," he explained. "The moment they connected you with me, you became a priority. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd issued an APB for you through some domestic law enforcement agency as cover. But with those schmucks down there and the security cameras… I think we're good." He nodded. "Yeah. We've got proof you're my hostage. We've cleared you're name. With the locals at least, but it's a start. Something to build on."

Kate's mouth dropped. "What… why would they do that? These… bad people, as you call them? Is it because of that flash drive? Is that what they want?"

"Partly, yes."

"Then why don't you give it to them?" she nearly shouted.

"Because that won't save Alexis!"

"Alexis?"

Castle nodded. "My daughter." He turned his back to her, shoulders slumping. "I never meant for any of this to happen. It just did," he said. "If I could take it all back, I would?"

"Even the kiss?" Kate asked, astonished she was even asking it.

"No," Castle graced her with a fleeting smile, eyes twinkling. "Never. Not that."

She shook her head, attempting to clear her mind of enamored thoughts. "Look, Castle… this is all so… weird. But… I'll probably regret this—hell, I already do—but I'll help you," Kate spoke with a firm conviction that was almost foreign to her. Though, it hadn't really been that difficult of a decision to make. She'd made up her mind the moment he'd kissed her. All or nothing. "I'll help you save your daughter."

Castle stared at her, openly showing shock and awe. His mouth bobbed open and shut as he tried to form a response. But before he could reply the shrill ringing of her cell phone interrupted them.

XXX

With a combination of a skeptical and grim expression, Turner watched as, on the screen, rogue CIA operative Richard Castle threatened to shoot NYPD Detective Katherine Beckett in the head. She found the whole scenario rather amusing. It was so not like him. But it was convincing. Damn convincing. She'd grant him that. And the woman on screen did look afraid for her life, terrified eyes wide. It also helped that the agents on the ground, though aware of Castle's abilities, were still inexperience. For most, this had probably been their first field operation.

She frowned in dismay as she witnessed Castle's easy takedown of the five agents who had been sent to watch the Beckett residence. Her lips curled in derision. The fools had exceeded their orders, potentially blowing the entire operation. "If this is the future of the American covert intelligence community, then God help us," she grumbled, nodding to the tech seated in front of them, indicating for him to stop the playback. She crossed her arms and turned to Danberg.

"She's his hostage," he concluded.

Turner opened her mouth to object, but stopped. She glanced back at the screen, staring at the image of the tall brunette with a gun held to her head. She had her doubts, but from the evidence on hand, she really couldn't argue with Danberg's assertion.

"That's what it looks like, yes," she concurred with a nod.

Danberg leaned forward, reaching for the phone on the desk. "I'll call off the APB on Beckett," he said.

"No," Turner shook her head, stepping over to press the disconnect button on the landline phone as Danberg glanced at her with a confused expression. "Just… not yet. She may be an unwilling pawn in his games, but she still may prove to be valuable."

After some thought, Danberg lowered the phone back to it's cradle, nodding his head in agreement. "You're right. She's still a person of interest and may have information on what Castle is up to."

"Precisely," Turner inclined her head, spinning on her heels to glare back at the screen, now showing the real-time image of the inexperienced agents stumbling back up to their feet. She had a sinking feeling that Castle wasn't just returning the wayward detective home. Something else was going on. And she wanted to know. Her superiors would want to know as well. Making a decision, she strolled over to the communication hub. "Tell Farrell to pull his men back."

"Ma'am?" the communications tech glanced up at her with a confused look.

Turner looked at the screen again, before refocusing on the young woman. "You heard me."

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded, raising a hand to flick on the microphone on her headset, relaying the instructions.

Danberg cast her a questioning look, puzzled by her decision.

"They exceeded their orders," she explained. "I don't trust them not to screw this up."

He nodded in understanding. "Should we send the NYPD in?" he asked. "Castle might be more hesitant about resisting when confronted with NYPD blue."

"You think he respects them more than he does us?" Turner asked with a quirked eyebrow. Danberg shrugged. She shifted her stance and glanced away for a second. "Perhaps. But for now, I think we just need to keep eyes on him. Detective Beckett may not be his accomplice, but she's involved in this."

"But how?" Danberg inquired.

Turner shrugged, unable to answer. There had been something bugging her about Beckett's involvement. She narrowed her eyes, staring hard at the image of the frightened woman on the screen. Danberg had instructed some of the analysts to review the footage. As she watched the black and white image, a glimmer of recognition hit her. She vaguely recalled seeing Beckett on security footage before they'd followed Castle to New York.

Turning, she marched across the command center, Danberg on her heels. "Pull up the airport security tape again," she ordered as they approached the video analysts. The tech nodded, turning back to his computer terminal, and soon the monitor was filled with the footage of Castle in the check-in queue at Reagan National. Turner leaned over the tech's shoulder and watched the video. She spotted something.

"There… hold!"

Danberg squinted as he looked down at the monitor. "What are you seeing?"

On screen, Castle had just bumped into the person in front of him. He'd bent down to pick up the roller case that had fallen during the 'accidental' collision. Turner hissed out in self-reproach. How had she missed this before? The woman Castle had 'bumped' into was a tall brunette with a face she was now very familiar with. It had started there. And judging by the placement of his hand on the roller, Turner guessed Castle must have slipped something into Beckett's suitcase.

It all made sense now. The reason behind Beckett's sudden appearance in the case was now obvious. Turner had been overestimating the woman's involvement. Castle had only needed her to smuggle something to New York. And now he was going to retrieve it.

She pushed Danberg out of her way as she rushed back to the communication hub. "Cancel my last order."

"Ma'am?" the startled communications tech looked up, bewildered over the sudden change in mission directives.

"Do we have her apartment number?" she asked Danberg.

"Right here," he grabbed a folder from Agent Jones, and pulled out the printout of Katherine Beckett's driver's license. Turner snatched it and handed it to the communications tech.

"Tell them to go to this apartment and find a flash drive," she commanded. "And if they encounter resistance… they have my permission to use lethal force."

"I thought the Director wanted him alive?" Danberg stated in a hushed voice, after all some parts of the operation were still classified. Only she could sense the slight ripple in his calm demeanor.

"The Director is not out here in the field," Turner snapped her gaze back to him, annoyed with being second-guessed by her partner. "He doesn't know or understand the full extent of what's happening. We do. Castle's dangerous. He has to be stopped. We cannot allow him to disrupt national security any more than he already has."

"And what of Detective Beckett?" Danberg asked. "What if she get's caught in the crosshairs?"

"Collateral damage," Turner brushed off his concern. "She's a cop. She'd understand." She turned her attention back to the awaiting communications tech. "Relay my orders. Now."

XXX

Castle moved with lightning speed, covering the remaining distance between them in the blink of an eye. He slipped a hand inside her coat with skilled ease—which was kind of hot—and deftly retrieved the offending device. He looked it over in his hands, frowning. She raised an eyebrow in question, and he held it up for her to see the caller ID.

It read: _Ryan_.

"Kevin Ryan, he's one of my partners," she informed him.

"Then, you better answer it," he asserted, pressing the phone into her hand and stepping back to give her some space.

Kate knitted her eyebrows together, stunned that he'd actually let her talk with one of her colleagues, a fellow detective. She supposed he trusted her more than she him. Taking the phone, she held it up to her ear and tentatively answered.

"Hello?"

"_Beckett, is that you?_"

"Yeah," she furrowed her brow in confusion. "Why? Who else would it be?"

Ryan let out a nervous laugh on the other end of the line. "_It… It's just that… the FBI's put out an APB on you, Beckett. It says you're wanted for questioning._"

"Yeah, I know," she interjected, exchanging a look with Castle. He frowned; evidently super hearing was also one of his many skills. Or, as she now realized, he had surreptitiously switched the phone to speaker mode when he'd handed it to her. She flashed him a sardonic grin, before pulling the phone away from her ear and holding it out between them.

"_You know!? Wha—I don't…_," Ryan stammered in response. "_Whatever. Look, Esposito and I… well, obviously we're both worried. Is everything—?_"

Her colleague's question was cut off by what sounded like some rustling. She heard some hushed voices, and then Esposito came on the line. "_What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Beckett?_"

Kate glanced up at Castle. He returned her gaze with a steady stare, seemingly trusting her to make the decision as to how much she told her friends. "Honestly, I don't know."

"_We can meet you somewhere if you need help_," he asserted. She could hear Ryan's agreement in the background. Kate smiled, touched at the loyalty on display from her friends.

"If the FBI has an APB out on me, then I don't think it would be wise to meet," she asserted. "I don't want you guys getting into any trouble."

"_It's no trouble, Beckett_," Esposito protested. "_We're a team. We stick together_."

"I know," she sighed, and looked up at Castle, who was encouraging her to wrap it up. "And I appreciate that, but I… I can deal with this on my own."

"_Beckett… Kate_," Esposito's voice softened, and she could imagine him ducking down and hunching his back over his desk. "_Don't do anything stupid, alright? I don't want a repeat of last May_."

Her throat seized up as she was immediately assaulted with memories of that day—the sorrow the filled the air as she stepped up to the podium… the bright sun, the fresh green grass… the pain in her chest. Castle placed a hand on her shoulder, and she startled back to the present, opening her mouth for a quick intake of oxygen.

"No… it's… this is different," she said.

"_If you say so_," he sounded unconvinced. Esposito knew too well just how easily it was for her to fall down that rabbit hole. He'd witnessed it far to many times. They all had. Kate's heart clenched at the thought. Her friends shouldn't have had to deal with the fallout of her obsession.

"I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

"_Can't promise that_," Esposito replied, and she smiled, once again touched by the concern and loyalty from her brothers in arms. "_Just… if you need anything, _anything_ at all, Kate… you call us_."

"I will. Promise," she said, and then hung up.

Castle took the phone from her, and immediately disassembled it, removing what, to her, appeared to be nothing more than some random circuit before he put it back together. He handed it back to her with a smile, his eyes sparkling with a boyish charm that melted her insides. Kate slid the phone into her pocket, disinclined to question him upon what it was he had just done. She'd ask him later. For now, she'd just accept it. He followed her with his eyes as she slowly worked her way around her room, her hand absently coming up to search for the ring dangling on the chain around her neck. His eyes flicked down, noticing the gesture.

"What happened last May?" he asked in a quiet voice, soft and filled with a touch of concern, which was surprising coming from the man who had just held her at gunpoint not too long ago.

"I… I don't want to talk about it," she averted her eyes, releasing her hold on her mother's ring as she became aware of her unconscious habit.

He inclined his head in understanding, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you've changed your mind about—"

"No," she asserted, her head snapping back up. "I'm coming with you, Castle," she continued with an easy smile. "You're not getting rid of me that easy."

He chuckled, and his eyes softened as he looked at her. She gazed back at him, her heart clenching with emotions that she should definitely not be feeling so early in their… _relationship_? But it couldn't be helped. Some things just were beyond her control. She, more than anyone else, understood that.

"Okay," he relented, his returning smile lighting up her world. Their moment was interrupted by a buzzing sound. Castle pursed his lips, and dug his old fashioned phone out of his jacket pocket. Kate frowned and arched her neck, catching a glimpse of the screen.

"How'd you tap into the CCTV cameras?" she asked, almost incredulous. He opened his mouth to respond, but she held up her hand to stop him. "Wait… on second thought, I don't want to know."

Castle winked, and glanced back down at the screen, shaking his head in consternation. "Shit." After two more seconds, he flipped the phone close and shoved it back into his pocket. He walked over to her roller, and grabbed the handle. "Good thing you didn't unpack," he said, as he turned back to her. She glanced at him with a bewildered expression. "Cause, we gotta go… like now!"

"But… but all those are dirty? I'd planned on doing the laundry tomorrow," Kate feebly objected.

"Sorry, but you'll have to make do."

"Castle!" she growled.

"Fine," he sighed, shoving the roller into her arms. "I'll give you five minutes to pack some fresh clothes." He winked at her, and pulled his phone out again, flipping it open.

Kate huffed and turned around, unzipping the roller, unceremoniously dumping its contents into the hamper. She paused, eyeing her open closet. Castle glanced up at her, encouraging her to hurry. She sighed, dropping the roller, and reached for the duffel on the top shelf inside the closet. She unzipped it, and grabbed a pair of running sneakers. Rushing over to her dresser, Kate quickly went through her drawers, grabbing an assortment of clothing that she hoped were appropriate for life on the run.

God, she couldn't believe it. She'd always prided herself on being the best cop possible, yet here she was, willingly becoming a fugitive from justice. Why?

She glanced over at Castle, watching as he scratched his chin, his blue eyes locked on the screen of his phone. Her lips tugged upward on their own volition and her heartbeat quickened. Yeah. Okay, that's why. And if Castle was right, and they bought the whole hostage act, she should be okay, at least with the NYPD. Kate turned back to her task, opening her lingerie drawer, discreetly adding two pairs of alluring bra and panties to the bland and utilitarian pairs she'd already deposited into the duffel. _Just in case_, she told herself.

"You done?"

Kate jumped, startled by Castle's sudden close proximity. She frowned at his mischievous expression, wondering just how much he'd seen. "Almost," she answered. "I just need to grab some socks."

"Hurry," he said, glancing down at his phone. "They're in the elevator."

"What!?" she exclaimed, shoving four pairs of clean socks into the duffel and zipping it up. "How… how are we going to escape?"

He looked around. "Fire escape?"

"This way," Kate said, carrying the duffel bag in her hands as she led the way.

Castle held her duffel as she climbed out the window and out into the cold night air. She gritted her teeth as the metal platform groaned under her weight. It was probably too late to wonder about the maintenance upkeep. Besides, Castle was already sliding out the window and joining her. He handed her the duffel, and then swiped his gun out of his jacket.

"Lead the way, I'll follow," he insisted, gesturing for her to move.

Kate heaved in a quick breath and took off down the metal staircase, moving as fast as she dared. She wasn't going to risk slipping and breaking her neck on a fall. The scar between her breasts twisted as she made a turn, and pain shot through her body. She clenched her jaw, suppressing the cry that wanted out. Castle must have noticed the stiffening of her body as she fought the pain.

"Here, give me the duffel," he said, taking it before she could respond. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she hissed out.

He gave her a dubious look, but thankfully didn't question her further. They continued down the fire escape, until a soft pop and responding ricochet caught her ear. Castle groaned, placing a hand on her shoulder and shoving her forward, urging her to go faster. Kate didn't argue. _Holy shit,_ she thought. _They're really shooting at us_. And from the sounds of it, these guys were using silencers. Suddenly Castle's assertions about 'bad people' being after them became a lot more believable.

She could hear the clambering of their pursuers, but didn't risk looking back. Feeling the metal structure wobble, Kate grabbed the railing for support as she made the final turn. Castle paused behind her, arching his back and aiming above them, taking two shots. The reverberations echoed off the building facades.

"Go," he kicked the lever and the ladder unfurled with a loud clanging noise that filled the night air. Castle tossed the duffel over the side and it landed with a thud on the sidewalk below.

Kate swung her leg over the edge, suppressing a groan as her scar twisted, and hastily climbed down. She looked back up, grabbing a step to hold the ladder steady as Castle followed. He slid down the metal ladder, a move reminiscent of an action hero from a summer blockbuster. She bit her lip, impressed. Castle landed on his feet, and winked at her. She grinned back. His eyes narrowed, and before she could question him, he was shoving her aside and raising his gun. One shot sounded, and Kate glanced up to see a man collapse, clutching his shoulder. She didn't know why, but it pleased her that he hadn't killed the man.

Castle retrieved the duffel and held out his hand. "Come with me if you want to live."

Kate snorted, and rolled her eyes at the cheesy line, but accepted his proffered hand nonetheless. The shouts of their pursuers faded as they rounded the corner and dashed down North Moore Street. She spotted the black Taurus they'd driven in earlier, and turned to head for it, but Castle tugged her hand, shaking his head. They continued on, feet pounding the pavement as they turned onto Hudson and then curved onto Ericsson Place, where there were some parked cars.

Castle slowed to a trot, holding up his arm to stop her. He handed her the duffel bag, and pulled his phone-like device back out of his jacket pocket. Her chest heaved as she stood there, taking the opportunity to catch her breath. Her heart was hammering, and she could hardly hear over the thumping in her ears. The scar along her side ached, but she ignored it. She silently berated herself for being so out of shape. It didn't matter the trauma she'd recently been through. Running two city blocks should not affect her like this. In the past, before the _incident_, such a feat would have been a cakewalk.

Halfway down the block, a car responded to Castle's device, flashed its lights and beeped, unlocking. Kate couldn't help but noticed that it was also a Taurus, but this time it was silver. Castle opened the trunk, and Kate dropped the duffel in the rear compartment. He grinned at her as they jogged back to the front, climbing in. Kate closed the door and pulled the seatbelt across her torso, buckling herself in. She glanced over, and watched as Castle pointed his phone at the console, his thumb pressing a flat black button on the side of the odd device.

"What are you doing?" she asked through panting breaths, furrowing her brow as she watched.

"Using the craft," he mumbled enigmatically.

The car roared to life, and Castle flashed her a triumphant grin. Kate attempted to smile back, but it fell flat. Her heart was still pounding beneath her chest, her side ached, and her scars were throbbing. She swallowed, stifling the watering in her eyes as her pain suppressors began to wear off, along with the adrenalin. Kate wondered if she'd made a mistake in coming with Castle. After all, she really didn't know what she'd gotten herself in to. But one look at him, and the flutter it caused inside her, was enough to overrule her better judgment. She may be acting out of character, but she didn't care. She was done with the dull ache of a sad and lonely life. Her mother wouldn't have wanted that for her, as Dr. Burke had helped her realize.

Castle presented Kate with an opportunity to do something different, something exciting, yet still worthwhile. If Castle was to be believed—and after being chased out of her own apartment by shadowy agents, she was inclined to believe him—a young woman was out there, somewhere, in need of help. Kate was determined to offer what assistance she could in saving her. And if she happened to have fun while doing it, then so be it.

Kate finally found her smile, letting out a relieved breath as Castle, unaware of her inner thoughts, put the car into gear. He glanced over his shoulder, before accelerating away for the curb and out into the quiet street, speeding her away from her apartment and life as she knew it.


	11. Chapter 10

**Private Eyes – Chapter 10**

The world was unexpectedly spinning around her, disorientating and confusing. Searing pain shot through her entire body as she was propelled backwards, landing hard on the soft green grass. She wanted to scream and cry, but all words were clogged up in her throat. The pain rippled through her, stemming from a single spot on her chest. She could feel it, the liquid essence of her life force leaving her, coating her torso in horrific warmth. It was difficult to breath, and she had trouble focusing, vaguely aware of people shouting, their words incomprehensible. Her vision was blurry and all she could see was the blue sky above.

Why… why was it so blue?

A bright light—the sun, perhaps—flared in her periphery and then, a moment later, there was only the black void of nothingness.

Kate woke with a start, her body glistening with sweat, breath coming in pants. The dream faded. Only the lingering ache of the scar between her breasts and the one along her side remained as a reminder of the awful memory. She wasn't entire sure what it was that had yanked her from her dreadful slumber, but whatever it was, she was grateful. Still muddled, and recovering from her nightmare, it took a little while for her brain to register that she wasn't in her room.

It was foreign to her, only lit by the dim light filtering through the cracks in the venetian blinds from the streetlamps outside. The blanket that covered her was thin and scratch, like that kind passengers are given during long flights. Kate blinked her tired eyes and gazed up at the ceiling, staring at the curls of peeling paint. Pushing up on her elbows, Kate slowly sat up on the lumpy mattress, glancing down to notice that the goose feather pillow had lost all its substance, sagging where she had rested her head.

Where the hell was she?

Scrubbing her hands up and down her face, Kate furrowed her brow as she impatiently waited for the cobwebs of sleep to clear from her head. After washing away the lingering images from her nightmare, the first thing she was able to recall was a man with amazing blue eyes and luscious lips, his strong arms holding her tight as he kissed her senseless.

_Castle. Rick Castle._

Kate brought a hand up to her mouth, her fingertips ghosting along the curve of her lips. She still felt the phantom press of his mouth to hers. Damn, the man was a good kisser; she'd give him that. As she collapsed back into her memories, Kate slowly drew her lower lip under her teeth, recalling the raw heat of their embrace, and the long dormant passions it had ignited within her.

Yes. The fog of sleep finally lifted. She remembered now—the gunfire, the agents in suits chasing after them, the hurried exit down the fire escape of her apartment building, and then the running that made her scars throb and ache. Her hand came up to press against her chest. She absently rubbed at the puckered skin as she thought about the events of last night. Castle had hijacked a car using some sort of spy gadgetry. It had looked like one of those old fashioned flip phones, but it was clearly so much more than it appeared, just like the man who wielded it.

Glancing around the room for a second time, now more alert and aware, Kate could now easily recollect the drive across the Manhattan Bridge and into Brooklyn. Castle had said he knew of a rarely used safe house in the area, and that they should be able to hold up there for a while, at least, as he put it, _until the heat dies down_. Just like with her apartment, Castle parked two blocks away. Kate had been anxious about leaving their ride so far from the safe house, but he had assured her that if they did need a quick getaway, there was one available.

"Does that just mean you'll steal another car?" she'd scoffed, staring at him critically, already apprehensive with the number of laws they were violating, not that he appeared that overly concerned.

He'd merely chuckled at her worry, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "I prefer to think of it more as… borrowing," he had grinned at her, eyes sparkling, before then draping his arm over her shoulders, tugging her close, and taking the duffel from her. They had then walked the rest of the way to the safe house under the guise of a couple returning from an extended weekend getaway. It still surprised her at just how easily she fell into the role, and let him take the lead. Detective Beckett would never have done that. But right now, she wasn't a detective. She was off the clock, on forced vacation time. Not to mention the little fact that she was now on the run with a rogue CIA operative.

After he'd given her the grand tour of the humble one bedroom apartment, Castle had graciously offered—more like insisted—she take the bedroom while he 'crashed' on the lopsided sofa in the paltry living room. The kitchen hadn't been any better, just a tiny nook in the corner with an ancient looking refrigerator and a grimy disused electric stove. It was the definition of the classic spy cliché—the dingy safe house, the likes of which usually always popped up in some pulp fiction or discount thriller. She'd almost felt dirty just standing in the front doorway.

Kate rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes and squinted towards the door, which stood ajar, a sprinkling of light marking its edge. Fumbling in the dim light, she groped around on the busted up nightstand by the bed until she found her wristwatch. If she squinted just right, she could make out the time. Just after 1 in the morning. She hadn't really been asleep for that long, maybe just three hours at most. Shoving the blanket aside, Kate swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, curling her toes into the cold hardwood floorboards.

Raising her arms above her head, Kate arched her back as she stretched, attempting to work out the kinks in her muscles that had arisen from having slept on a rather uncomfortable mattress. Both her scars pulled, the pain dull, yet within her tolerance threshold. To be honest, she'd grown accustomed to it at this point, though she couldn't hold back the slight grimace that floated across her features.

An unexpected shiver ran throughout her body as she relaxed her muscles. Lowering her arms, Kate finally took stock of her appearance, and what she was wearing, or rather the lack thereof. She was wearing nothing but a thin undershirt and the simple black cotton panties she'd pulled on this morning. Swiveling her head around, she spotted the duffel on a dusty moth-earth armchair by the window. Lying beside the bag, draped over the arm of the chair, were her blouse and jeans.

Stepping around the bed, she quickly retrieved the jeans, and tugged them on. She thought about putting her blouse on, but decided to wear the hooded sweatshirt she'd shoved into the duffel bag. It was a little bulky on her slender frame, but it was warm and comfortable. Quietly padding across the hardwood floorboards, Kate nudged the door open and peeked out, spotting a flash movement.

It was Castle.

No. Not just Castle… a _shirtless_ Castle.

Kate licked her lips, but swallowed down the rising bait of arousal. Now was not the time to give in to her base needs—even if it had been a while since those needs had been fulfilled.

Slowly pushing the door all the way open, she slipped out as silently as possible. Castle's back was to her, every curve and contour available to her hungry eyes. There was no denying Rick Castle was an attractive man. Not only that, he was also strong, that much had been made abundantly clear from the events of the past evening. The way he'd handled himself had been nothing short of… amazing. But she had not expected to see the numerous cuts and scars, varying in size and complexity, that littered his back; a testament, no doubt, to his line of work.

Kate effortlessly recalled the last time she'd seen Castle without his shirt on, unashamedly watching as Josh had wrapped gauze around his naked torso. She'd glimpsed most of his strong chest and flat, toned stomach then, which, for the most part had been untouched, so the sight of such marks upon his back was a little startling.

"Hey, Kate."

His unanticipated greeting shocked her, causing her mouth to drop in surprise, leaving her standing there like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming automobile. She'd been as quiet as a mouse, even going so far as to tiptoe barefoot across the cold floorboards. Were his senses that attuned?

"Are you just going to stand there, mouth agape, or are you going to join me?" he inquired, not even bothering to turn and look at her.

Jolting out of her stunned daze, Kate took the necessary steps to round the sofa, and confidently sat herself down opposite him on a well-worn settee. She glanced down at the chipped and scratched top of the coffee table. Castle had completely disassembled his Sig Sauer, and was in the process of cleaning it. He was currently scrubbing the barrel.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his eyes on his work.

She rolled her shoulders, her back muscles still a little achy from the uncomfortable mattress. "The sheets are scratchy, the bed is lumpy, and the pillow is… deflated."

"Good enough answer than any," he chuckled, flashing her an apologetic grin, before returning his focus on the barrel. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's been a while since I've crashed here. Hell, I'm surprised the water and electricity still work. At least you managed a few hours of undisturbed sleep."

She nodded, not feeling inclined to correct him. He didn't need to know about her nightmares.

"You hungry? Thirsty?" he asked. "Because while you were sleeping, I ducked out to get a few things."

Kate stared at him in disbelief. "Are you crazy? I thought you said the people after us could tap into the CCTV camera throughout the city. You can… with that phone-like thing. So, I don't know, wasn't it a risk to go out like that?"

"Don't worry, I was careful," was all he said, shrugging it off like it was no big deal. She sighed in mild frustration, and brushed her hair back from her face as she inhaled a deep calmly breath. The jackass just ignored her legitimate concerns. It was a wonder he hadn't been caught already. "So… are you?"

"Huh?"

"Hungry or thirsty?" he repeated.

"No, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine." She frowned, tilting her head as she watched him work at cleaning the Sig Sauer. "How'd you know it was me?" she asked, suddenly curious.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and his lips quirked up ever so slightly. "You smell like cherries."

Kate knitted her eyebrows together, skeptical. Curling her fingers around a few locks of her long hair, she swept them over her nose for a sniff. "Really?" she cast a dubious expression his way as she released her tresses, letting them bounce back into place. "You smelled my shampoo from that far away?"

"It's a feminine scent," Castle shrugged, turning his eyes back down to his work, as if he was embarrassed. "Not the short of thing one usually associates with a ruggedly handsome rogue like myself." He paused, and glanced back up at her, making sure to look her straight in the eye. "I like it. It smells nice."

"Uh, thanks," she said, ducking her head as she smiled weakly, stifling the mild blush that started to work it's way onto her cheeks. She wasn't use to such flattery, particularly in reference to the scent of her shampoo or perfume. Her chest and ass were the usual suspects in that regard. It was rare to meet a man who saw beyond them. It was the same when he'd crashed her blind date with Andrew Miller. _You have gorgeous eyes_, he'd said. No one have ever complimented her eyes like that before, as if they were the first things he noticed about her.

"So, how'd the rest of that date go?" Castle asked, seemingly out of the blue, almost as if he could read her thoughts. He cast his eyes down, narrowing them as he finished scrubbing the barrel of his Sig Sauer. "Did Mr. Poem ever show?"

"You mean _the real_ Andrew Miller?" Kate volleyed back with a harrumph, glaring at him disapprovingly. And then added, a bit stumblingly, "Yeah. He… er… got held up in traffic."

"Ah, tough break," Castle grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Poor guy. So, how'd he do?"

"Huh?"

"He get a kiss, too?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

"Ugh," she rolled her eyes, lounging back into the tattered piece of furniture, surprised to discover it was actually comfortable. "No. He did not. I just don't go about kissing strange men I've just met, I'll have you know!"

"Oh, could have fooled me," he chuckled, flashing her a wicked grin and winking suggestively. "So, what do you call what we did back at your place, then? Osculating?"

Kate narrowed her eyes in a glare, but found her lips tugging upwards on their own accord, matching his playful smirk. Oh, he liked the banter and teasing, this one. And she was rapidly learning that she had a penchant for it as well. It was almost better than foreplay. And if this was what foreplay was like, she couldn't wait for the… Wait? What? _No. No. No. Too soon_. She shook her head, frowning, and redoubled her efforts on her irritated glower.

"You're the one who kissed me… both times," she reminded him.

"Ah," he held up a finger, wagging it tauntingly. "But you kissed back, as you say… both times."

Kate huffed, raising her hands in surrender. He had her there. It would be pointless to repudiate. He grinned, knowing he had won, and turned his attention back to his weapon, before then redirecting it back on her. She tried not to let her gaze wander to the broad expanse of his bare chest, no matter how tempting.

"Could… um… you put on a shirt, please?" she asked, hating herself for doing so. She was enjoying the view, yes… but it was distracting. And right now, Kate wanted to be able to focus. She couldn't have the man displaying his toned pecs and those strong biceps.

Castle laughed, and his mouth spread wide, forming a smug and arrogant grin. "What's the matter, Detective? Too much skin getting you all hot and bothered?" he teased.

_You have no idea_, she thought, finding it a lot more difficult than she'd anticipated to hide just how true his words were. Still, she managed to roll her eyes and feign, at least what she hoped was, a convincing scoff. "Please, as if! Just… put a shirt on, would you?"

"Okay, okay, no need to get your panties in a knot," he chuckled, shaking his head at her as he complied with her request, stretching his arm out to grab his discarded shirt. He shrugged it on and quickly worked at buttoning it up. Unable to look away, Kate was mesmerized by the way his deft fingers notched the buttons into place. She found herself wondering what else he could do with such talented fingers. Shaking her head, she released a hot breath. Yes, despite how disappointing, it was probably for the best to remove temptation.

"By the way, I am sorry that I left. I was really enjoying that date," he offered, the sincerity in his voice undeniable. He looked truly remorseful for having cut and run, as it were. "Been a while since I was able to just sit down and enjoy a glass of wine with a beautiful woman."

She narrowed her eyes at him, now aware of his attempts at flattery. However, it wasn't as easy to suppress its effects as she'd thought. "Yeah… well, you owe me about twelve hundred dollars, _by the way_."

Castle had the decency to wince at the price. "Duly noted," he said with a crisp nod. "Sorry, I didn't intend for you to have to pay for that."

"Well, Andrew Miller refused to help out, seeing as he's allergic to grapes," she informed, a little bitterness seeping through.

"Definitely not your type then?" he chuckled.

"You could say that," Kate grinned back, finding it hard not too around this man. It was odd. She couldn't recall the last time she'd been so… happy? Just talking with Rick Castle seemed to brighten her mood. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. It was a little unnerving, but she decided it was probably best to just roll with it. _In for a penny, in for a pound_. She'd already committed herself to helping him save his daughter, and she wasn't going to change her mind on that, no matter what dangers that might entail, so she might as well just enjoy herself when she could. "Tell me about her."

"Who?" he glanced up, confused.

"Alexis."

"Oh," he knitted his eyebrows together and looked away. "Not much to tell really. I mean... I didn't even know she existed until about a month ago. I mean… I knew her for a while, I just didn't know she was my daughter until a month ago."

"Sorry," Kate said, not sure why she was apologizing.

Castle sighed, and set down the gun piece he'd been working at cleaning. He leaned back and rubbed his hand across the stubble on his jaw. "It's complicated," he said as way of explanation. She waited to see if he'd continue, but he didn't. Castle furrowed his brow and averted his eyes. He looked conflicted, probably not used to opening up and sharing so much of himself. Kate suspected it was just part of the territory that came with being a spy—not trusting people or forming attachments.

Kate shifted on the settee. "You don't have to say anymore if you don't want to."

"No, no," he shook his head, glancing back up at her with determined eyes. "If you're going to risk everything to help me, then you deserve to know." He paused. "Why don't I give you the cliff notes version?"

She bobbed her head. "Sure."

Castle swallowed and took a deep breath, building up the courage. "I had a brief—it doesn't feel right to call it a relationship—with her mother. Meredith. I… I don't even remember her last name." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. "God… I was so different back then, so young, troubled in a lot of ways, wayward and lost, alone, and… I guess I was looking for something to help me forget."

"And Meredith helped you with that?" Kate hedged, watching him closely. He was truly being open and honest with her, bare and raw. And the fact he was allowing her to witness that, which she gathered must be a rare thing, was humbling. There was a part of her the longed to just wrap her arms around him and hug him tight, prove to him that he wasn't alone anymore, even if it was too early for such things. It was silly. She still barely knew him. But it was oh so tempting.

"For a time, yes," Castle shrugged his shoulders, his eyes glancing away as if he was recalling some long lost memory. "It was right after my first… assignment." There was more there, Kate could tell—something to file away for later. "We weren't together that long. I was trying to recollect, and she… well, Meredith… she was an aspiring actress, so her attentions were more focused on trying to catch her big break than dealing with my… um… _recollecting_." He paused, pursing his lips. A hard crease formed between his eyebrows.

There was more to the story than that, beyond his vague references to something that had undoubtedly unsettled him after his first assignment. He was holding something back, but Kate chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. If it wasn't relevant to Alexis, then she didn't need to know. However, she still made a mental note to question him about it at another time.

"We just sort of drifted apart," he finished, looking somewhat forlorn, lost in his memories.

Kate was tempted to reach out and squeeze his hand in a sign of comfort and reassurance, but she held back. It was too soon for that. All they'd done was kiss. She didn't know what his intentions were, if he had any at all beyond getting into her pants. And even though she was extremely attracted to him, Kate wasn't looking for some brief affair. She'd wasted too much of her life in nowhere relationships with men she didn't love to do that. If something was ever going to happen between her and Castle, Kate wanted to make damn sure it was real, and not just carnal desires that drew them together.

"So Alexis?" she prodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Yeah…," he bobbed his head, shaking himself from the maudlin caused by his reminiscing. "As I said earlier, we weren't together for that long, and after six months, by leave was over and I was recalled to Langley to receive my next assignment." He sighed, and raked his fingers through his head, slumping back against the sofa's meager cushions. "It's my own fault, really. I never left her any contact information. I mean… it wasn't like we were dating or anything. So I can't really tell you what she did when she found out she was pregnant. What I do know is that the minute Alexis was born, she became a ward of the state. Eventually she was adopted by Gene and Alicia Harper, and she was raised in some small town in Kansas, of all places."

"So how'd she get mixed up in all this?"

"She was a prodigy. And certain powerful people took notice."

"What happened?"

"Not long after Alexis's 15th birthday, Gene and Alicia Harper died in a freak road accident," he answered, eyes darkening.

"And you don't think it was an accident?" she framed it as a question, but it was more of a statement.

"No," Castle shook his head. "Not anymore." He paused for a beat, a look of indecision manifesting its way across his face. In the end, whatever it was he was battling with, he chose to trust her. "There was no one to look after her, no extended family, so she fell back into foster care. That… that's where the Agency got her. And she just disappeared into the system."

"By 'the Agency', I'm assuming you mean the CIA?" Kate asked, finally finding a way to confirm her earlier suspicions. "They altered records, didn't they? Made it look like she'd been adopted or was never even in foster care to begin with?"

"Right on all three counts," he nodded, raising an eyebrow, looking impressed. "She was taken to a black site in D.C. where the Agency kept an eye on her, nurtured her innate talents for one single objective." He shifted and shoved his hand inside the right pocket of his pants, retrieving the slate gray USB flash drive. "This."

"What's on it?" her eyes flashed with undeniable curiosity.

Castle tossed it casually in his hand, like he would with a baseball, before clenching a fist around it. "Something extremely dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands," he answered enigmatically.

Kate felt like groaning in exasperation. Could she ever get a straight answer out of him? Telling her about his daughter and his dalliance with her mother was fine, but getting an honest answer about something important to the mission was like pulling teeth. It was extremely vexing.

"Castle, I think I deserve to know what's on that damn thing," she all but growled. "I'm risking my neck here helping you save your daughter."

"You're right, I'm sorry," he dropped his eyes, shamefaced. "It's just habit. I'm not… it's been a while since I've had a partner I could trust."

That last comment floored her. She stared at him, mouth agape, in open awe of what he'd just said. "You… you trust me?" she stammered out in utter disbelief. How could he trust her? They barely knew one another.

Castle smiled warmly at her, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around her knee. The moment he touched her, Kate could feel an electric spark shoot through her, aiming straight for her heart, warming her whole body with… feelings. Her breath hitched and she looked at him with wide eyes, awaiting his response.

"I'm a good judge of character," he said, gently squeezing her knee, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary as he pulled back. He sighed and glanced away. "Or, at least, I used to be."

She frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"My last partner tried to kill me," he tossed out that little bit of information like he was telling her the score of last night's ballgame.

"Whoa! Wait… what?" Kate stared at him in disbelief. "My God, is that how this all started?"

"Sort of," Castle answered tentatively. He swallowed and averted his gaze, his face scrunching up with a mixture of emotions: Sadness, anger, confusion, and regret among them.

Kate sat there and waited for him to come back around to her, but it appeared whatever had happened, it had been traumatic, or at the very least, disturbing. So, unable to hold back any longer, she reached out across the table to brush back the flop of hair that had fallen across his forehead. He startled, surprised by her touch. She smile softly and gently nudged his chin back up until his eyes were locked with hers. "You can tell me about that another time. Okay?"

He bobbed his head. "Yeah, okay," he released a breath. "So, because of what happened I requested some light duty for a while. My request was granted, and I was then given the assignment of protecting an asset the CIA had in D.C. with the codename 'Mockingbird'."

"Alexis."

"Yes. I got to know her… care about her. She's an amazing young woman," he smiled at that, the yet unrealized fatherly pride shining through. "And then about a month ago, while I was reviewing communication records going in and out of the site, I stumbled upon some encrypted emails. I was unable to find the recipient, but the source was undoubtedly Russian."

"How do you know that the encrypted emails was from the Russians?"

"They were all in Cyrillic."

"Oh my god," Kate was stunned. "So you're telling me there's a Russian mole within the CIA."

"Perhaps," he inclined his head. "Or that's just what they want us to think." She gave him a dumbfounded expression. "The Cold War isn't exactly over, Detective. A skilled operative would know this, and use it to their advantage."

Kate sighed, and carded her fingers through her long hair as she thought it over. "So if not the Russians, then who has Alexis?"

"What? No one," he chuckled, shaking his head at her like she was insane. "Alexis is fine. I staged a break-in and got her out of there. She's someplace safe, at least for now." He narrowed his eyes and looked away distractedly.

"What!?" Kate nearly screeched, snapping his attention back to her. "My God, Castle… if she's safe, then what the hell are we doing here? And why'd you get me mixed up in all this!?"

"Huh?" he glanced at her, clearly baffled by her outburst. "I said she was safe, not that she was out of danger."

"Doesn't one imply the other?" she questioned through gritted teeth.

"Sadly, no, not in this case," he replied. He twirled the flash drive around in his fingers. "I can't trust anyone in the CIA. They all think I've gone rogue. And I don't really have that many friends. So I'm sort of on my own… present company being exception." Castle paused for a beat. "Whoever is after this…," he held up the flash drive. "If they can't get their hands on it, they're going to go after the next best thing."

"Alexis."

Castle nodded in confirmation.

"So what are we going to do?" she asked.

"Find the mole, and expose them."

"How?"

"By using this," he tossed around the flash drive in his hand again, "as bait."


End file.
